The Link in the Chain
by asc12
Summary: Having finished work on a particularly gruesome case, Sweets plans a vacation to a tropical destination. The only problem is the place he ends up staying in is prison in the Deep South where's he accused of having shot a cop and they think he's someone else. Too bad everyone thinks he's busy enjoying his vacation. Will Sweets survive before he "checks out"? (Ooh, terrible pun)
1. Chapter 1

The Link in the Chain

_I do not own Bones. I guess this is my version of a break._

* * *

_That's the sound of the men, working on the chain, gang. That's the sound of the….oh geez, that's just not working. I'm going to hate that song now, why does it sound so upbeat? This sucks. Keep saying it sucks won't make it suck less. There's no way out of this. How the hell did I get myself into this mess? This might be my worst blunder yet._

"Prisoners! Line up for water break!" The guard shouted.

Sweets and the other men put down their shovels and turned. Sweets knew, now, to follow instructions, don't ask, don't interrupt, just do. He learned the hard way on that account.

_I would think I would wake up except for the blistering heat, the pain in my chest, the ratty clothes, and the hell I'm in. Even for a nightmare this is a bit much._

"Next." The guard shouted and Sweets was aroused from his thoughts to step forward for a drink of water.

"Oh it's mister fancy pants." The guard, Frank, teased. "Any more tales of false imprisonment today?"

Sweets stayed silent and shook his head no.

"Yeah those nice clean hands are getting plenty dirty." The other guard, Gary, said taping his Billy club against Sweets knuckles. It was a light tap but the last time Sweets had seen that Billy Club it was being swung across his chest.

"Yes sir." Sweets said handing the cup back as he left for the back of the line. It was two minute break time so he took a seat next to the mound of dirt he had just dug.

"You've gotten pretty quiet." The man next to him said.

Sweets considered if he should talk to the man, no one had much spoken to him since he had arrived four days ago.

"Yeah, talking doesn't seem to do much good." Sweets' tone was bitter.

The man smiled. "Everyone here is innocent don't you know that?" He waited for Sweets to give a response to his joke but the young man's gaze was far away from this place. "Yeah, I just don't think they had anyone as adamant as you."

"Yeah." Sweets said touching his side. "I think I got that."

"So what did you do anyway?" The man asked.

"I was convicted of shooting a highway patrolman." Sweets said.

"Kill a copper huh? No wonder they don't like you."

"No, he's still alive, in a coma." Sweets said rubbing his head. "And I still didn't do it."

"Yeah buddy you just keep telling yourself that." The man chuckled. "At least this is only a short time gig, for most people anyway. How long you in for?"

"I was sentenced to eight months." Sweets said but in a way that he thought it wouldn't apply to him – surely he would get out of this soon.

"Well that's longer than most." The man wiped his brow, he was slightly chubbier and the work was taking a toll on him. "I'm only in for two months then I'm sent up state like the rest. They don't have room you know, that's why we spend time here. Good thing about it though no one's too stir crazy, you know, you don't have to worry about dropping the soap."

The man rolled his eyes and Sweets wanted to be grateful that male gang rape wasn't on his list of things to watch out for but he was having a hard time finding much to be grateful for.

"I'm Chet." The man said starting to hold his hand out and taking it back. "Old habits I guess. I'm a personable sort of guy on the outside, I guess anyway, that's how I got pretty good at what I'm in for, fraud. I like to think of it as creative accounting."

Sweets looked at the man wondering if he should be grateful to have a friend or look at the man for what he was, someone Sweets normally would profile and then put behind bars.

"Prisoners, back to work!" Gary shouted.

The men didn't grumble, everyone got back to their feet and went back to work. It was a well-oiled machine here.

"Hey you didn't tell me your name." Chet said grabbing his shovel. "I heard you shouting to the guards you were an agent or a shrink, Lance or something?"

Sweets thought it over and shook his head, announcing too loudly he was an agent was not going to go over well with the other convicts. "No, my name is Kale Mallory." Sweets dug his shovel into the ground hard. _Because that's who they thought I was when they convicted me. Sentenced to eight months here pending the outcome of the highway patrolman with four kids and a sick wife. A man I never met and was accused of shooting on a road I happened to go down. Why the hell did I decide to take a damn trip?_

* * *

"Hey Booth, ready for lunch?" Brennan said standing at Booth's door.

"Yeah, starving." He said standing up. His phone rang and Booth looked at the caller ID.

"Hello?" Booth said. "Who's calling? Yeah I told you I don't know anyone at the Jackson County Correctional Facility Annex in Louisiana, and certainly no one who's been sentenced there. Yeah I'm sure a lot of guys say they know me. They hear I put someone away and they think they have information and they can get me to come down there. I don't have time for wild goose chases. Yeah, thanks."

"What was that?" Brennan asked after Booth hung up.

"Oh that's the second call I've gotten from there, some guy says he knows me, some Kale something. I checked, no one I've known by that name, ever. Some guy just yanking my chain. Come on Bones I'm starving."

"Are you sure? Seems sort of strange doesn't it?"

"Bones, I can't track down every wrong number."

"Right. I wish Sweets was coming to lunch with us."

"Really? Why? All you two do is argue."

"I know."

"Well Sweets is where he needs to be. That last case was pretty nasty." Booth said thinking back.

"I hadn't expected for Sweets to have to dive so deep into the case." Brennan felt a shiver of her own thinking back to it. "I haven't seen a serial killer that…."

"Yeah it was pretty dark. And hey with Sweets help – his profiles, we got him, behind bars right?"

"Yeah, I was just worried, he seemed to have to get into a dark place, to get in that guy's mind. Honestly Booth it still gives me the creeps."

"I know, the evidence didn't get us far, the guy was good, Sweets' profile, it did it and it was, yeah, dark. But! That's how he earned himself a month's vacation courtesy of the bureau. I'm just glad he took it."

"Yeah, I hope he can relax. He said he was fine but I suspected otherwise." Brennan said as they walked towards the elevator.

"Of course, he's probably off sipping some drinks on the beach, maybe meeting someone who isn't an intern or an employee of the Jeffersonian for once and get laid or something. I'm sure he's having a great time Bones."

* * *

Sweets flopped on the cot that didn't give way once you laid on it. _I didn't realize they could make cotton out of cement. _Sweets hoped sarcasm might give him a sense of normality, sanity but mostly he was just exhausted and his latest attempt at calling Booth didn't work. The first time he thought it might be a fluke, the second time he hoped Booth would have questioned it. _I need a new plan. First call at the jail went to Booth, no answer. This was my call for the week here, goody another week another call, I guess I've got time to make it count._

"Hey!" A loud voice shouted and Sweets had a feeling it was to get his attention.

Sweets looked up at the large fellow inmate and hoped Chet was right about the whole lack of rape thing. He got it, most times it was reverted to in long stays, and most of these men were here less than a few months. The jail was full and this was a temporary facility to hold them until a spot opened open in "real jail" as they called it. It also sounded a lot cushier than here.

"I'm talking to you!" The man shouted again. Sweets wanted to say something sarcastic but decided against it.

"Yes?" Sweets asked instead.

"Chief wants to talk to you." He said and kept going.

Sweets stood up and looked down the long row of cots to the end where the office was. The place was small, everything cement, bars over the windows which were plentiful. The windows had to be, there was no air conditioning. The building was built on the cheap and for a temporary purpose. It sat in the middle of nowhere with fences and gates around it. It reminded Sweets a bit of Cool Hand Luke minus the sweat box, at least he hadn't seen one yet. There were a few buildings around it that he assumed were either storage, break houses for the guards and other facility purposes. Still everything about where he was screamed Deep South, as far away from DC, opposite coasts and as far as everyone Sweets knew, where he would disappear.

"Yes?" Sweets said stepping into the office.

The man behind the desk lowered his head and Sweets didn't even see the guard, Lee approach him and strike him in the gut with the end of his club.

"You don't speak until you are spoken to." The guard hissed in his ear. "Now stand up."

_Stand up? What the hell, I'm pretty sure you just knocked my stomach into my spleen._

Since Sweets was physically unable to immediately complete the task a second strike was taken across his shoulder. Again he seethed in pain.

"That's enough." The man in charge, Clayton Wallace called out as he walked around his desk and sat on the corner. He was dressed in a suit, a semi warden to the facility housing roughly 80 men.

Sweets tried the best he could to stand up and keep quiet.

"I think you've noticed by now that I run a pretty tight ship." Wallace said.

Sweets had indeed noticed. The men hardly stepped out of line and when they did it was paid for severely. Something Sweets found out quickly and found the abrupt punishment to be effective yet questionable. He had fully committed to an investigation once he got out about how legal all this way. The men here, so separated from the rest of the system seemed to have grown a bit power hungry, and gone unchecked since they were running so efficiently. The work the men were assigned to complete was free labor to the county, saving the county from having to pay expensive contractors. Thought the concept was nothing new it had fallen out of public favor until it was recently brought back in the area as a way to keep taxes down, something all the locals were all for. And when the work was done, but no one was seen having to slave over it to do it, as the men worked in areas they were never seen, it only appeared as magic to the community.

"You know you don't really fit in here." Wallace said stirring Sweets from his thoughts of how this system came to be. Sweets wasn't sure though if that was a question he was supposed to answer.

"Most of these men are pretty hardened criminals." Wallace laughed. "I think that some of them enjoy the work out." _Is this man insane? Since when is ten hours of manual labor enjoyable under the blistering sun and oppressive humidity?_

"A few of them are like you, think they're smart and can get away with things." Wallace's eyes turned a shade darker. "The man you shot, Will Ryan, he's the son of very good friend of mine."

_Uh, this isn't good. _Sweets stiffened.

"You're here eight months boy." Wallace said coming closer. "I wouldn't be expecting to make the transfer to the big house if I were you." Wallace punched Sweets across the mouth, it took all he had not to swing back at the bureaucratic prick. Wallace nodded and Sweets was pushed back out the door.

All the eyes were on him as he walked back to his assigned area. There were no bars or cells, the warden had managed to instill such order that no one dared make a move. The two dozen or so cops who roamed the track with shot guns and tear gas didn't hurt any either to prove the point.

Sweets walked by the men trying to look stoic which hoping his organs were still intact. Wallace was right about one thing, these men were pretty much in great shape except for a couple of guys like Chet who was only two cots away. They eyed Sweets with narrowed glances so he chose to stare at the floor. It was a conflicting emotion in him, there were people he almost felt the need to create a bond with though he knew this wasn't Hogan's Heroes but the conflict was that in his real life, he would work late hours to put them behind bars _in _places like this.

He laid on the bed much slower this time. The men went about their quiet card games in their bunks or read a magazine or left for phone calls, showers where the guards kept order. It was rec time, all one hour of it before dinner which was a nauseating experience as well. Then another hour of rec time and lights out on the bed of gravel and chat.

"What was that all about?" Chet asked moving to sit one empty bed closer to Sweets to talk. "You rat someone out? No, not with that hit you took."

"What?" Sweets asked confused.

"Couple of the guys were talking, they thought you might be trying to sweet talk your way into some cushy job like the laundry or something. They can tell guys like us don't fit well out in the sun."

Sweets shook his head. "Yeah, no, warden's got friends in all the wrong places." Chet didn't follow. "He's buddies with my victim."

Chet thought it a strange choice of words but he shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah well they got that you weren't making friends fast. I don't think they like you though. They think you're too fresh faced to be in here, a real sweet talker."

Sweets wanted to argue for the millionth time that he indeed did not belong here.

"Yeah, real sweet talker, ha, maybe that'll be your name, Sweets."

"That's a fantastic suggestion." Sweets said with enough sarcasm to drown out the entire facility. He threw his pillow over his sore face and hoped the whole thing would fade into an oblivion.

"Alright, well catch you later pal." Chet made his way off to join a game. Sweets wondered if Chet would try and cheat the guys.

_I don't care. Yes I do, I don't want to see Chet get hurt. Dammit, I can't care about people here. I've got to work at getting myself out of here. Get out of here, sounds like Wallace has no plans of that happening. And why not, apparently Kale what's his name had no one in the world to care he was gone. He's probably the one who stole my wallet while I was at the gas station. So what if I looked a little bit like him? Who gets sentenced to a jail term with no finger prints run? Oh that's right, I'm just being held until trial. Why do I have a feeling that they are in no hurry to get me on the docket or get me a lawyer. Friends of police men alright – if I don't figure out something fast I'm never going to make it to trial where I might be seen. What century is this anyway? I've heard about people falling thru the cracks, but really? Can it be real? Sure as hell feels real. And it all flipping hurts._

Sweets grabbed at his aching head when the call came, dinner.

Sweets stood in line with the rest as the large man behind him pushed him into the man in front of him. Sweets looked back at the man who pushed who smiled at him. _Oh goody, just like high school and bullies. _Sweets turned to look at the man who he was pushed into who gave him an equally dark look. _Fantastic, bullies who probably never made it to high school they are so dumb. _Sweets could hear the guy behind him laugh with the other man behind him and Sweets could guess what game was coming next. Sweets waited until he felt the man ready to shove him again but this time he stepped aside sending the large man behind him barreling into the man in front of him, both men fell to the floor. The other inmates laughed though the pair didn't think it was funny as Sweets shrugged his arms. Sweets noticed the inmates nod their head in something of approval at his move but the laughter quickly stopped as the guards came up and delivered a swift hit to the gut again for Sweets who was again not expecting it having not done anything.

"But I…" Sweets began to say but he knew he shouldn't have for he also earned a strike on his shoulder again. It was the same guard as in Wallace's office and apparently he only knew two moves.

"You got out of line! Back in line!" He shouted and Sweets tried to move as instructed. He had a suspicion that he too was a friend of the injured highway patrol man.

He made it to the cafeteria style layout and tried to unhinge his left arm but it had seized up some from the two hits and the hours of manual labor he wasn't used to. The man behind him who was the one who laughed set the tray on the surface and pushed it in front of Sweets. Sweets nodded a thank you.

"That was a hard hit, it wasn't necessary." The gruff man said. "They don't seem to like you."

"Yeah I got that." Sweets said as he pushed the tray forward as he loosened his arm. The tray was filled with unappetizing and 'cheap as it could be made' food. Sweets wasn't sure if it was his beaten stomach or his sense of culinary standards that made his appetite fade. Still he knew he had to eat something to survive this.

"You've never had prison food before?" The man behind him asked.

"Can't say as I've had the pleasure." Sweets said collecting his tray now that his arm had loosened.

The man nodded his head and Sweets looked around the room. It was larger than the crowd here, perhaps the other buildings were plans to add more men. Sweets was just glad because it meant he could eat at the end of a table by himself, space between the others. Until Chet arrived.

"Boy, you just can't keep out of trouble can you?" Chet asked a little too excited for Sweets latest punishment.

"What can I say, I'm a sadist."

"Really?" Cheat asked.

Sweets shook his head no.

"Well you never know you know." Chet plowed into his food. "Oh I'm so hungry."

"Yeah me too." Sweets said fishing the lower half of a locust out of his gravy and placing it aside.

"Oh don't worry about that." Chet said like it was nothing. "It's the mouse parts that make you worry."

Sweets glanced up and saw the man in line behind him sitting at the next table. Chet noticed Sweets glancing at him.

"That's Dean." Chet said. "He's pretty quiet."

"What's he in for?" Sweets asked. He hadn't been able to judge their exchange in the food line as friendly or setting him up for something.

"Murder." Chet said. _Hm, let's not trust him much. Wait, I'm surrounded by criminals and bug infested food, what can be better?_

"I heard tomorrow it's supposed to be 115 degrees." Chet added.

_That._

* * *

_Reviews welcome. Not sure...  
_


	2. Chapter 2

2\. In the Quiet

_Sorry this update has been so long coming, my intent is to be much more frequently._

* * *

**Sweets is wrongfully imprisoned in a questionable facility in Louisiana under the wrong identity. While working to get out he finds himself embroiled in prison life despite his attempts to stay out of it all.**

Sweets liked the quiet. In the quiet no one bothered him and he could work. Now he was surrounded by nothing but work and he longed for someone to interrupt him with a phone call. It wasn't a law or a rule that people arrested only got one phone call, no that was just a movie myth, like quick sand eating you. Nah, but this wasn't normal jail, this was hell.

It was a consensus that he gathered from most of the inmates, most of whom had done time at other facilities and the result was the same, this was one of the worst places to be stuck. Sweets hadn't been slightly surprised when some mentioned how other prison facilities offered classes, that he knew but what he was surprised by was how many of them actually took them. Still he learned about life on the inside by listening to them, learning and absorbing as though reading an instructional guide on how to make it thru prison life. It wasn't a manual that Sweets wanted to put to too much work but he would take whatever he could get until he could get out of here. As it stood, it was another week until he could make a phone call, it was a reward, one that you had to earn.

Sweets saw the phone call as the only way to get out so while Sweets had no wish to become the model prisoner and thus be targeted by fellow inmates, he decided to keep his head down, go with the plan, get to the phone and get the hell out. He learned the previous week that declaring his innocence and mistaken identity only prompted the other inmates to remind the inmates that each of them too were innocent and mistakenly imprisoned. Sweets was then treated to a beating for a lesson that obedience was the only language spoken at Jackson County Correctional Facility Annex, also known as hell.

Sweets wiped the sweat from his forehead and tried not think of his welcome into hell last week. Sweat was the other reason they called the place hell, hot didn't even begin to describe the atmosphere. 'Lighter than air' seemed like a ridiculous notion to Sweets because here, in the south the air was thick and heavy - it weighed on your shoulders to beat you down if the oppressive heat wasn't enough on its own. It took some getting used to, and Sweets wasn't used to it. The domineering humidity was enough to bring a healthy man sitting in the shade down to his knees, let alone a string of men digging a line thru the countryside.

Sweets break didn't last long but the heat was becoming more difficult to take as the sun continued its rotation. Lunch was a few minutes in the shade with a light sandwich, for that Sweets was glad, much more and he would have surely thrown it up. Bologna wasn't a favorite, cheap bologna was questionable and hot, cheap bologna was deplorable. But not eating your lunch was worse and did provide at least some nourishment that would tide them over into the afternoon.

He sat by himself for lunch, feeling like a conversation or two was about him. He knew he didn't' fit in, he didn't even have the look of a criminal. Even Chet looked like a shady used car salesman you would want to avoid. Still Sweets clung to his resolve that it was a mistake and that he would be plucked from here soon and make the jerks in charge pay.

Now in the afternoon where the sun only got hotter Sweets felt his frame sway in the afternoon heat. Having spent his youth in chess matches, his college years in libraries behind books and his career at the FBI primarily behind a desk he hadn't been conditioned for outside manual labor.

Since lunch he had paced himself. He knew it appeared he had been working slowly but he was working consistently so they said nothing. It was a good approach as it allowed him to continue to work and not pass out. Sweets devoted his attention to his work, his breathing, his rhythm - the combination of which kept him on his feet despite the overbearing conditions of heat and aching muscles from the recent series of hits he had taken.

The other inmates looked over at times, Sweets could feel their eyes on him and could hear them turn to converse with each other in short whispers. Sweets went back to his work until he heard one say 'put me in on another two'. It was then that he realized what they were doing, taking bets on when he was going to pass out, drop dead or plead for mercy. He didn't know the particulars but he was familiar with the set up - too often in his life people expected less of him. He was the too young psychologist, the teenage college kid, the kid who wouldn't break no matter how many times he got beat and locked in a closet. _I've been playing this game my whole life guys _Sweets thought to himself and it renewed in himself a resolve he had before. It was the ever present resolve to prove everyone wrong, Sweets always bet on himself as he was always determined to win.

By the time he flopped on his cement mattress he didn't feel like a winner but he felt a small smile deep down, he did it, he hadn't passed out, he made it all day. The others walked by slightly curious but didn't speak to him, a feeling that was apparently very mutual. Inside Sweets body was screaming from aches and heat exhaustion and the intense desire to go for a very tall, very cold and very strong drink. _Don't think about the outside _he said angrily to himself because it gave his body hurt in a different way - longing for something he couldn't have. _I guess that's how inmates feel, explains their anger issues. Right, Lance, keep saying them like it doesn't include yourself. No! I am not a criminal, my job is find guys like these and put them behind bars._

"Last call!" A voice boomed and Sweets was removed from his introspective moment. It was the last chance for a shower and he viewed it as the one luxury that existed in life at this moment because he knew it wasn't going to be dinner.

When he stood up he tried to ignore the dizzy spell he was feeling and the nausea that was brewing from his body overheating. _Don't throw up Lance, that bologna was gross enough the first time. _ Sweets tried not to swagger as he headed to the shower, _stiff upper lip _he joked as he headed that way but deep down he knew that passing out wasn't going to go over well with these guys and h wasn't entirely confident the guards wouldn't start beating him if he did. _Just make it to the shower Lance, you're almost there, one step, one at a time._

Sweets felt like he had won a marathon having reached the shower with few outward signs of how terrible he felt. The room temperature water was welcome as the room with no air conditioning was still stifling. Most of the others had already left to be first in line for dinner though Sweets felt in no hurry.

The rush of water quickly washed away the sticky sweat that was coated on his body. He let it run over him until he felt the need to open his eyes and look around but he was the only one in the shower. He took the moment to look at his own skin, purple in places and red in others. _Geez what happened to me, _he knew the answer but it was the first time he had taken the time to really look himself over in the nude and not concentrate on what was going on around him. Tears formed in the corner of his eye, masked by the running water but he could feel the sting within of the moment, of the sorrow he was feeling for himself though for good reason.

_Bad things happened to good people, you know that Lance, you've seen it over and over in cases, you've lived it in childhood. _Sweets sighed, _but why does this feel so different?_ _Maybe it's been a long time since something bad happened? Maybe this is worse? Worse than being five? _Sweets shut off the water and the train of thoughts that was leading to.

He made quick work of drying off knowing he had to hurry to get in line. _Get in line, do as you're told. _The thoughts made Sweets bitter, _this isn't forever Lance. _It was while he quickly shaved, a rule in the joint to be cleanly shaven, that he developed a plan. _You can't let it get to you Lance, you can't be hurt or sad and thinking of home will only make it harder. You have to shut all that down outside of figuring out how to get out of here or who to call, don't think about them, any of them. Use sarcasm or whatever as a shield against all this but this isn't the place for hugs or sentimental thoughts or psychological assessments. You can't be you, well not the you that you're used to._

With Sweets plan in place he glanced at himself briefly in the mirror and thought he looked a bit older. Maybe it was because he didn't smile and knew he may not for a while.

Sweets quickly got in line and as he suspected he was at the end, but present! - and that was all that mattered here. _Oh no, will they be out of delicious food by the time I get there? _Sweets thought sarcastically and received his answer, _nope, just bottom of the pan burned crap, yum._

Sweets headed to his usual seat at then of the table by himself but quickly found Chet joining him. _Yay, Chet's here, goody I hope he talks incessantly. Wait, don't people accuse me of that? Shut up Lance._

"Hey Buddy!" Chet said eagerly as he sat down. Chet seemed a bit wired today though Sweets really tried not to pay too much attention. He wanted to start a psychological profile on Chet, talk him thru why he did criminal activity but he shut the thoughts down and ate a mouthful of mushy goop he couldn't put a taste to, or maybe he didn't want to. Besides, Sweets _hated _being called _buddy_, it ranked right up there next to kid, champ and loser.

"Hey Chet." Sweets said in an unwelcoming tone. _Left alone, just want to be left alone. _

"Did you hear about Madere" Chet asked excitedly again. Sweets wondered why the man was so excited about so many things today. Sweets looked at Chet's hand and noticed a high paced twitch. _Don't care _Sweets reminded himself, _don't get involved in their lives, they're here for a reason, you're not. This is going to be harder than I thought to not help._

"No I didn't." Sweets finally answered as Chet waited impatiently. _And I don't care _he wanted to add but couldn't totally rain on the man's parade.

"He's headed up to the big house, tonight. Yeah I guess they have room for him." Chet said and began to eat some of his food quickly.

"Right." Sweets said. _Who the hell is Madere and why should I care again? Maybe I should play along. _"So he's a big to do around here?"

"Ha ha." Chet laughed. "You don't talk like everyone else."

_Because I use complete sentences? _Sweets didn't want to act superior, he just didn't think much of the criminals he was surrounded by.

"No, he's been here a year. That's pretty long." Chet glanced across the room and looked a guy. Sweets eyes followed and he got the idea that was Madere, a large typical thug in Sweets mind.

"What's he been here for?" Sweets asked.

"Murder. His wife and her mother." Chet answered in a tone suggesting it was as mundane as the weather forecast.

Based on the man's size Sweets was pretty sure it wasn't self-defense on his part.

"They both nagged." Chet added.

"Right." Sweets said looking back at his goop. "Completely justifiable." His sarcasm was as thick as the goop. "What is this anyway?" Maybe now Sweets might get information out of Chet that he actually wanted.

"It's Thursday so that's grits and meat."

"Do you always know what's on the menu based on the day of the week and not by taste?" Sweets asked pushing the tray away.

"Hey you'd better eat that." Chet warned but Sweets didn't seem to pay attention. "You don't eat that they'll make you."

"Is there a problem here?" A guard said appearing.

_Great hearing _Sweets said to himself. "No problem sir." _Compliant, always compliant._

"You'd better eat that. We don't waste food here."

"Food?" Sweets asked, genuinely wondering what the guard was talking about.

"You talking back boy?" The guard asked more agitated than before.

"No, oh, this. Yeah, I'm not really hungry." Sweets said keeping his calm as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Chet seemed to be inching away from Sweets now.

The guard put his hand in a grasp on the back of Sweets' neck as he came close. The room came to a deafening silence as all eyes were drawn to the situation developing.

"You eat what we tell you to eat and you eat it all." The guard hissed in Sweets' ear.

"Okay." Sweets said as the guard loosened his grip. Still Sweets could feel all eyes on him around the room, snickering. He looked up at the guard who was snickering too, he was the joke right now.

Sweets eyes narrowed and maybe it was the heat or the whole situation that clouded his judgment and he forgot the plan for a moment.

"Perhaps you'd like to try some if it's so good." Sweets said holding out the tray to the guard. "I'm willing to share."

The next moment was a little fuzzy in Sweets' memory but Chet could tell him about it later. The guard pulled him up and Sweets reacted naturally by pushing him away earning his lapse in judgment a punch across the jaw tipping him back against the table and before he could turn the guard kicked his leg out from under Sweets and kicked Sweets in the stomach a couple of times when another guard arrived. They whispered a moment and each taking an arm pulled Sweets off the floor and escorted him out of the dining hall.

When Sweets head cleared a bit from the commotion he found himself in small area with a window above. The walls were metal and thin.

"Hey." A voice asked which was mostly what drew Sweets consciousness to a clarity state.

"Yeah?" Sweets asked reaching out to touch the other wall which was a few feet away.

"What day is it?" The voice asked, raspy.

Sweets knew from the menu via Chet. "Thursday."

"Ah, grits and meat day."

"Yeah, it wasn't all that much to write home about." Sweets said though he was beginning to regret his moment of rebellion.

"Better than in here." The answer came.

"How long have you been in here?"

"Mystery beef and beans day."

Sweets thought that was a couple of days ago and wondered how long he was treated to these quarters.

"What did you do?"

"Hey!" A loud voice said banging on the door. "This is solitary not social time."

Sweets waited and listened but nothing else came of the voice next door and he figured it was best to keep quiet. The evening wasn't any cooler and the small space was warm, even the cement floor was warm. Still his body was exhausted and soon he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning Sweets woke to the sound of trucks starting up and then voices yelling for people to line up. He waited for the door to open but instead the trucks drove away and again there was silence. _Oh well, sitting in solitary has got to be better than working in the field. _Sweets said though the small space didn't afford him to extend his long legs or even to stand up straight. At first it didn't bother him much until the morning lingered on and he found the small space to be confining, _surely the point _Sweets figured to himself. _If this was better I'm sure every prisoner would find a way to get assigned here. _

The space he was in he figured must have been on the outlying edge of buildings he had seen from the window. There were several buildings he had seen but never been to and figured some were offices or places for the officers to eat and take breaks, a laundry and different things. This row of small buildings he thought were storage sheds, the one saving grace was they were placed under a few trees. _Right because in sun would be inhumane, this is much better, wait, I thought solitary was outlawed? Somehow I don't think they work with regular rules and regulations here. But I'll get that changed when I get out - there's criminals and then there's law enforcement making their own rules, that makes them criminals right?_

The thoughts confused Sweets, he didn't feel like he knew who were the good guys and the bad anymore. _You have to stick to the plan Lance, pulling stunts like these isn't going to help you get out of here. I hope you're happy with yourself because you probably just lost your phone call privilege this week. _Sweets thought about talking back to the prick guard, _it was sort of worth it._

Another hour or so later he would question that idea of being worth it. The small space had one thing, quiet which he once craved and no manual labor which was enticing but the quiet became too quiet and the space too small. The outdoors afforded an occasional breeze, hot as it may have been and the feeling that you hadn't been locked and away possibly forgotten. Sweets tried to fill his mind not with thoughts, thoughts would lead him to thinking about people. _Stick with the plan, don't think about how you're not supposed to be here, don't think about friends, just think about nothing. _Nothing would soon prove impossible for a mind that was always spinning. _Okay, music, just think about music. _Sweets tried to fill his ears with the sounds of music, symphonies that lacked words or sonatas he had played on the piano. Even for a trained psychologist the solitary state was proving difficult.

The heat continued to rise and the small window in the roof only let in a small breeze and a small rectangle of light. Small slits were cut at angles leaving air to come in but nothing he could see out of, it was more of a vent. Sweets tried to press his face against the cement floor hoping to draw some coolness out of it. There was little to be found except for a small breeze he suddenly felt and looked for the source of it. At the base of the space was the thin metal wall. Another prisoner had either worked some of the metal back or the cheap and poor work of the manufacturer may have allowed it to warp over time. Sweets pressed his face to the corner of the space and could see a small view from the corner which he realized was the last solitary square of the section leaving his on the end but mostly he took in the fresh air. He laid his head down and tried to relax, breathe in the fresh air and relax as much as possible.

It wasn't a restful nap, Sweets wasn't even entirely sure he had slept since it was such a mixture of eerie quiet and strange atmosphere. The quiet dissipated as he heard muffled raised voices that soon escalated to yelling.

"That's not it!" One voice shouted quickly gaining Sweets' attention. He looked thru the small space which only afforded one eye any vision so he had to look closely. There was a truck and a building in his view. Soon he saw a man, a prisoner he recognized from yesterday, Madere.

"Just get in the truck." A guard shouted.

"No!" Madere shouted back as the other guard pushed the handcuffed prisoner towards it.

Sweets was confused, he thought the man wanted to be transferred to the big plush house, why was he resisting? The men were out of view though Sweets' eye desperate searched for them.

"Don't make me…" The guard said but a scuffle ensued between them and their voices grew muffled.

"He's escaping!" One of the guard shouted.

"No!" Madere's voice shouted followed by the sound of a gunshot and large body dropping to the ground. There was quiet again.

"What the hell is going on here?" Wallace's voice boomed from the other direction. Sweets could see Wallace in view looking to the ground and rubbing his head.

"This was not the plan." He said not as loudly as before and quickly looked in the direction of the row of solitary confinement as though he had forgotten something.

"That's why I shouted…" The one guard said but Wallace raised his hand to cut him off.

"Just take care of it." Wallace said softly, so soft that Sweets would not have heard it except for the breeze carrying their voices thru the air and thru his small opening.

Wallace turned and walked back to his office leaving a clear view of Lee and Gary, two of the guards, loading Madere's dead body into the back of the truck.

Sweets mind was spinning faster. _What the hell is going on here?_

* * *

Reviews welcome, trying to keep this one interesting and not spiraling crazy. Reviews are welcome or even just a smiley face or a check mark to note that you read it as it's nice to know people are stopping in. Hope you enjoyed either way. Maybe more today to make up for my lack of recent updates - hoping anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

3\. Robtic

_Sorry this is a short update but I wanted to not have a gap. Enjoy, a few more seeds planted._

**Sweets has developed a plan to comply in order to get out but old habits die hard as he finds it hard to not to react when bullied. He draws upon a life time of questions and techniques to adjust to the situation and while his resolve is to not get involved he finds it nearly impossible to not question Chet's twitch and the newly murdered inmate.**

* * *

It wasn't the end of restful sleep that woke Sweets late that afternoon but the rumble of the returning trucks that made his dark eyes flutter open. He sat up from the floor in the hot space filled with stale and toasty air. He listened carefully as the men exited the vehicles and filed inside. It was then followed by more silence. Sweets waited for the door to open which sadly reminded of a regrettable childhood when he would be locked in a closet while _he _would be gone for hours. It would be then, like now, when Sweets was unsure if he wanted the door to be opened or not but either way the anticipation was acutely painful.

He waited in the silence when no one came. He leaned towards the wall he had heard voices from last night.

"Hey." Sweets said softly as he tapped. No response. "Hey." Sweets repeated. There was still no response. _I didn't fall into that deep of a sleep, they couldn't have taken him, did he pass out or die? Should I call for help? I can imagine what that might bring. Do I risk being beaten for a stranger? And at that a stranger who is a criminal? Does every criminal deserve a sort of standard? _It was then that the memory of Madere came to mind. _Was that a dream? Maybe I'm hallucinating, the last thing I ate was lunch yesterday, I could be hallucinating from hunger and heat exhaustion. _Sweets swallowed hard as he rubbed his dry and tired eyes. _It wasn't a dream, I know it wasn't. So what now? Solve a murder or just be busy trying to survive?_

* * *

The steam that hung in the air fell slightly as Sweets kept one eye on the light that faded in the open space above in the roof. _Maybe I should cry for help, maybe I should kill myself… _Sweets dry and parched lips moved to the lyrics of a song that came to mind. He felt like the song, which played angry and loud in his mind. Music kept him sane in a way, a middle ground that kept him from thinking of friends or of his present situation too much. But the song selection in his mind had changed in the last few days from Sam Cooke to angry rock, the music was only a start of the significant changes taking place on Sweets. _Maybe I'm not listening…_ Sweets continued to sing when the metal door creaked on its hinges as it was rapidly opened. Sweets jumped in surprise and covered his eyes. Thought it was late evening's the yard was highly illuminated for security. His eyes weren't used to the light which caused a stinging pain he tried vainly to avoid by shielding it away.

"Come on! Out!" The guard shouted but Sweets couldn't see him. "Unless you get out you can stay in there another day."

Sweets was sure the guard was aware of the light issue but doubted he cared much, in fact it was quite possibly the opposite and he reveled in the moment.

"Coming." Sweets said not even recognizing his own dry and hoarse voice.

Still trying to adjust to the light slowly and exhibit movement Sweets pulled his feet along the cement, dragging himself towards the door while his eyes and face remained in the crook of his arm. Once he reached the door however the guard pulled his arm down and Sweets felt a rush of fear he might be taken away like Madere.

"Hands at your side!" The guard ordered and Sweets did as asked and squished his eyes as tightly shut as he could in the harsh outdoor lights that beamed down from above. The guard nudged him forward and Sweets opened his eyes a slit to see where he was going. He was being pointed back towards the bunk house.

"Man you are ripe!" The guard taunted.

_Amazing deduction for a guy who spent a day in a hot space and sweated all day, a real couple of geniuses here. _Sweets said to himself as he walked to the bunk house, slowly.

"Come on we haven't got all night!" Lee, the guard said egging Sweets on but pushing him with the barrel of his rifle.

Sweets was walking about as fast as he could but everything ached from the small space, the hot day and the lack of food despite his lack of physical activity.

"Don't worry, you'll be back in shape tomorrow, back on the line." Gary the guard said as Sweets now recognized his voice. He wanted to comment on if the two had a busy day but he didn't welcome a revisit to solitary so he kept quiet, stayed in line, tried to walk as fast as he could but kept his eyes to the ground where the light bothered him the least.

When he arrived at the door into the bunk house he stopped upon seeing a set of two highly polished leather shoes. Sweets looked up and creaked an eye open farther to see Wallace.

"Before I let you back in here tell me you've learned your lesson from 24 hours in there."

"Yes." Sweets said not looking the man in the eye.

"Is that all?"

"Yes sir." Sweets seethed.

Wallace cleared his throat. "That's better but I don't think you mean it."

Sweets wanted to tell the colossal prick just what he did mean but he bit his dry tongue.

"Now I want you to hit the showers, shave, we run a tight, clean ship here." Wallace said.

_So he's more concerned that I'm shaved over the fact I'm about to drop dead from dehydration. Perfect._

"Now go on." Wallace said stepping aside, having spoken to Sweets as though he were an errant child.

Sweets didn't look back he was too tired to and focused instead on propelling himself forward. He was tired, he felt old and to say he felt like shit would have been an improvement. He ignored everything and headed to the showers where few people were having showered before dinner. Sweets again found the space to himself, the water rushing over his skin gave it a sense of hydration and life and by the time he was done, he felt far more conscious than before. He shaved, every day per the warden so they were all clean shaven, and handed his razor to the guard who waited at the door - all razors were accounted for. Sweets paused while handing it to him, he hadn't recognized this man before, he seemed different. Sweets headed to his bunk having little interest in much else buy lying down but Chet soon appeared.

"Hey buddy." Chet said and though Sweets didn't want to open his eyes to look at him, he noticed Chet was on edge again, jittery, pumped up. Sweets felt the opposite, dead on his feet.

"Glad to see you made it back." Chet added hoping to spur conversation with Sweets but Sweets had little to add.

"Yep. Made it back."

"Yeah you caused quite a stir." Chet's remark made Sweets curious.

"Yeah huge upset in the pool. No one had money on you, until last night."

_Oh goody, instead of lying low I'm getting more attention on me._

"Really? How's that?" Sweets asked tepidly though he asked any emotions.

"They didn't think you had it in you. Granted they don't think you're He-man but you know, a few of the guys were impressed."

Sweets rubbed his head and joked referencing a popular novel's phrase. "Ah well I aim to please."

"Really?"

"No Chet it was a joke. I just want to do whatever it takes to get out of here. That was a stupid stunt I pulled." Sweets yawned and enjoyed the fact he could stretch out and took full advantage of it though his feet from his long legs dangled over the end.

"Ah, well, the guys enjoyed seeing someone fight back. Everyone wants to you know." Chet said and seemed a little calmer before, maybe depressed.

"You alright Chet?" Sweets asked and regretted it immediately. Before he would have implored Chet to open up but here, he wanted to keep his head down and move on as quickly as possible.

"Yeah, it's just hard for you know, guys like me here, you know, guys like you. We're not big guys like them." Chet said.

"Yeah." Sweets said but something else was on his mind. "Hey Chet, you said Madere, he uh, headed up to the big house right?"

"Yeah, lucky bastard. He was here for breakfast and then went to do some paper work. Bastard probably had half real chicken for dinner."

"Right." Sweets said propping himself up on one elbow. "Nothing seemed strange?"

Chet's head turned with curiosity. "Why?"

Sweets noticed the new guard looking at him closely and felt the desire to lower his voice. "Nothing, just curious." Sweets said and looked down but nodded to the guard. "Where did he come from?"

Chet was less obvious and looked around. "Oh him?" Chet asked nearly pointing at the new guard. "Yeah he showed up at supper. Why what's up with him?"

Sweets noticed Chet seemed to be exhibiting a sort of paranoia or a serious curiosity.

"Nothing, just a funny feeling in my gut." Sweets said lying back down. "But maybe it's just starvation." Sweets wanted to laugh but it felt too true as he rubbed his eyes and noticed it was quiet. He opened his eyes to see Chet was gone and that an apple was a few inches from his face. Sweets looked up at the man who was holding it out to him.

"It's not poisoned." Dean said and Sweets took it.

"I wouldn't necessarily turn it away if it was." Sweets answered and quiet bit into it for he shouldn't have had it. "Thanks."

Dean sat on the cot next to Sweets. "What you did yesterday was very stupid."

This was not news to Sweets who suppressed an eye roll and agreement when Dean kept talking. "But I understand why you did."

With that the conversation was over and Dean got up and left. Sweets nodded and secretly ate the rest of his apple, almost including the seeds and stem there was so little left of it. Sweets thought of Dean, _he's a murder but he seems nice _but Sweets couldn't help but battle the basic instinct for comradery but it was a contradiction considering those he was most associated with were murders and such. Even for a psychologist he felt confused, too much to take in over a week's time.

Sweets looked around the room, he wondered if the man in the cell next to him from solitary was free, was he here? Or was he another figment of his imagination? _No Madere died, I saw that, it was real, that guy was real, this is all real. But what am I supposed to do about it? _Sweets rolled to his side and decided to forget about all of them, he would keep his head down, thoughts clear and bide his time. And those guards and the warden he had come to hate? He would get back at them and it wouldn't be for stupid pranks in the mess hall.

* * *

The next day was Saturday which was special detail for some but he was still on the warden's shit list so back to work on the line he went. The day was hot as hot as hell, which was normal for hell Sweets had decided and he was happy for the smaller group that was one the line because it seemed quieter. Sweets concentrated on his work, he looked down and few things entered his mind but occasional angry song lyrics and math equations. He soon found the ability to shut off his mind and move like a machine, a machine that wasn't used to hard, manual labor. A few times he started to feel sick, adjusted his pace and made it thru. Sunday was much of the same, he concentrated on his work, always looking down at his work and concentrated on his pace and his rhythm and by Monday he hardly felt the same nausea.

The nights were the same with a shower once nearly everyone else was gone and in line with little food left. Food with no taste for a mind that was running on cruise. It wasn't until Monday's dinner that he looked up and noticed something.

The silverware clanging made him look up. At his table that used to be for one now sat Chet and the newest addition, Dean. Neither Sweets or Dean filled the air with much conversation, Chet did most of the talking and Sweets was pretty sure that Dean enjoyed Chet about as much as he did.

"See the new guys?" Chet asked causing Dean and Sweets to glance up as Chet pointed. "Three of them, tried hold up a bank or some stupid shit."

"Why are you so twitchy?" Dean finally asked Chet but in a tone that made Chet shrink in his seat slightly. Sweets noticed it too but suppressed the urge to ask.

"Hey and you know Cooper, he's heading to the big house too." Chet's information was like gossip only it was all true. However it was this once piece of information that brought Sweets mind out of its robotic state.

"When?" He asked.

"Hey Mister Inquisitive is back!" Chet said sarcastically. "I think tomorrow or the next day."

Sweets nodded. _Could it happen again, maybe that was an accident? Should I warn him? It's none of my business, keep your head down. _Sweets said it to himself but this time he was having a hard time stopping his mind from working, from shutting himself back off like a robot.


	4. Chapter 4

4\. Back to Life

_It's funny, I don't generally like prison films, but I do admit that Shawshank Redemption is my favorite movie because anytime it is on I watch it. I guess this story came to mind more from Cool Hand Luke but it's could be a sort of blend of both, I dunno, have to see where it goes. I came up with this pretty randomly but it just sort of worked. I guess I always aim to try something I haven't before. Oh, and the 'angry' song reference in the last chapter was Awolnation, Sail. I'm so bad about references! I still don't own Bones either. Dang it!_

* * *

**Sweets gets out of solitary after a day and finds he's somewhat accepted into the inmate community since he stood up to the guards. The guards however keep a close eye on him so Sweets decides further keep to himself and concentrate on his work. The physical labor continues but he finds its easier to manage each day. Dean, though quiet, becomes a sort of friend and a new guard is brought into the joint. Another man is being sent to the larger prison as space is available and Sweets is still worried about what happened to Madere though no one else suspects anything.**

"This is getting easier for you." Sweets looked to his left where Dean worked beside him. Dean spoke so little that when he did it felt like if a pencil sharpener started to speak to you.

"Prison life?" Sweets asked as he dug his shovel into the ground.

Dean looked curious but shook his head as he continued to work. "Hard work. You did not seemed equipped for it before."

"No, I didn't do much manual labor." Sweets said. Sweets found himself becoming a man of few words. He wondered if Dean was once much like himself, but in places like this he just preferred to keep to himself.

"What did you do on the outside?" Dean asked and Sweets found the conversation almost unsettling, who was he? Lance Sweets or Kale Mallory?

"I worked in an office." Sweets said, he didn't feel like lying to Dean but he wasn't planning to divulge his criminal catching background. "Office stuff."

"I am out in a month, is there anyone you would want me to call for you?" Dean asked while working, not even looking up.

The prospect of a connection to the world outside delighted Sweets who was not going to be attempting a phone call this week thanks to his shenanigans in the mess hall. The thought of another month was training but at least it was the light at the end of a tunnel. The light though brought to Sweets mind, one that soured the option of escaping this place.

"You're out in a month?" Sweets asked.

"Yeah, they told me this morning, transfer to Georgia." Dean dug away at the earth.

"Dean uh…" Sweets searched for the right words, he had stopped working. "Don't uh, when you leave…"

"Hey!" The guard shouted. "Get back to work."

Sweets went back to work but couldn't stop thinking of the possibility of Dean getting gunned down. "Don't leave without saying something okay, I uh, I need to talk to you before you go."

Dean nodded. "Yeah I can give a message to someone, whatever you want."

"No, it's not that, it's, well, just yeah, before you go." Sweets mind raced, he didn't care to divulge what he had seen the day before. Prisoners were known to talk to each other and if it got to the guards, which it was sure to, they would know based on the fact he was the last man in the last cell that he had seen everything and then he'd be done in.

"Okay." Dean said and went back to work.

Sweets mind was anywhere but the digging. Part of him was sort of sad that the one  
"friend" he had, the same "friend" he had shared about ten sentences with would be gone in a month, but that he could be killed, even though himself was a murder. It was confusing but Sweets was working with what he had, one thing at a time. He hoped perhaps he could find a way to get out, before Dean, something.

"He's really going at it." Dean said and Sweets looked to what Dean was referring to. It was Chet who was digging at a feverish pace, too fast really.

"Doing good huh boss?" Chet asked the guard.

"You've really picked up the pace Chet, you might get special privileges."

"Yeah, I could use them too." Chet said still digging quickly. Sweets became alarmed at Chet's behavior.

"Back to work!" The guard yelled at Sweets who did as he was instructed though he kept an eye on Chet whose feverish pace continued. "Why don't you work like your friend?!" The guard added with a snicker but before the guard could turn around the clink of a shovel hitting the ground caught tall their attention.

They turned as Chet hit the ground clutching his chest. Sweets rushed forward in a normal reaction but the guard hit him in the face with the butt of his rifle sending Sweets back to the ground with a bloody lip and nose. The other two guards rushed towards Chet while the one nearest Sweets, Frank held his rifle out.

"No one move!" He ordered.

"What's wrong with him?" Gary asked.

"I don't know." Lee said looking over Chet.

"What are you talking about, he's having a heart attack!" Sweets shouted while wiping the blood from his face onto his sleeve. "Well help him!" Sweets shouted aggravated they were all standing around but Frank turned and kicked Sweets in the stomach. Sweets ignored the fact that his bruises had started to heal and worried for Chet. He was about to make another plea when Gary had a phone out to make a call. Sweets hoped he was doing something and not just piddling around.

"What do we do?" Lee asked and Gary looked back at Sweets.

Sweets looked at Frank and back to Gary. "Give him an aspirin, quick."

Frank went to kick Sweets again having not seen the exchange and instead Gary shouted for Frank to get a bottle out of the first aid kit. Quickly it was crushed and given to Chet who stabilized and was loaded into the truck as it pulled away. Sweets meanwhile got up off his feet.

"Why didn't an ambulance come here?" Gary asked, perhaps to Sweets, perhaps just an out oud thought.

"Back to work you pansies!" The guard shouted. "And you'd better do Chet's work too."

* * *

By the time they got back to the hall the murmur was going around about Chet. While he wasn't Sweets favorite person he couldn't help, though he had tried, to block out feelings for his fellow man, even the criminal types. Sweets didn't go out of his way to talk to many people but he made his way to one of the men he had seen coming and going.

"You work in the laundry don't you?" Sweets asked the man with a limp, unable to work in the line.

"Yeah, what of it?"

"Well that includes other duties too, like infirmary?" Sweets asked.

"Oh yeah, that Chet guy a friend of yours?"

"Friends are luxuries I'm afraid." Sweets said. "Look, I'm just curious…."

"He's alive. He'll be back in a few days."

"Oh good." Sweets said feeling relieved but something else was on his mind. "Say, what was it that caused him to have a heart attack?"

"I don't know, heat I guess."

Sweets had other suspicions. "Are you sure?"

"No, I'm not." The man said agitated. "But the doc did his job, he's resting and he'll be back, got it?"

"Got it." Sweets said to the man who was appearing to be a bit unhinged. "Thanks."

Sweets headed back to his bunk and gathered some items and headed to the showers. While the water was refreshing and helped to wash away the dried blood that had caked to his nose and lip he didn't feel relaxed. He took a moment to admire his new bruises. _Great, purple. _Sweets said wrapping a towel around his waist and heading to shave.

"You think something is up with Chet's heart attack?" Dean asked stepping up next to Sweets to shave as well, speaking low.

"Maybe." Sweets said.

"Maybe?" Dean asked. "Look I think the guy is annoying too but…"

Sweets wondered how someone who had been committed of killing his wife and her mother cared about an annoying guy like Chet.

"Yeah, you can't help it right?" Sweets said shelving the question of Dean's incarceration. "Look Chet's hand's been shaking, he's highly agitated and he's suddenly very productive on the line."

"You think he's into the junk." Dean guessed.

"Yeah, which he probably figured would make him more productive, but gave him a heart attack. If he's still on it, in the infirmary, they're not going to treat him coming down."

"Well let's talk about this elsewhere man, not that the shower isn't a great setting." Dean too had a towel wrapped around his waist and the two headed out, handing their razors to the guard, new guard who eyed them both.

"What's that guy's problem?" Dean asked but when Sweets turned to make a joke he saw Dean quickly look away, Dean had been walking behind him. Dean shrugged his shoulders. "Those are some pretty nasty marks."

Sweets hadn't had time to think of them. "Oh, yeah, they're old."

"Had them a long time?"

"Yeah." Sweets said grabbing a tee shirt and covering them. "Too long."

Dean got the idea Sweets didn't want to talk about it and he didn't mind either. Sweets hadn't walked around with just the towel and now he wondered if the others had taken notice. Where before his scars were that of shame, here the others viewed him as really being able to take it on the chin, especially for such a skinny and lean guy. Here they had assumed he just worked behind some desk somewhere.

It was dinner so the duo headed in line, near the front and Sweets realized the food was better the earlier you were in line. He was surprised at how much he enjoyed sitting at the table with Dean. The two of them didn't always talk but it felt nice just to have someone else nearby. Sweets thought of the last few days when he had felt shut off, he liked feeling alive, like now, but knew soon Dean would be gone and for some reason he hoped not in the eternal sense.

"Should we do something to help Chet?" Dean asked breaking Sweets thoughts.

Sweets grinned to himself at the thought. For being a guy who didn't want to get involved with anyone he was sure in the thick of a murder, an overdose, and trying to keep another guy from getting killed. _I guess I can't help being who I am_.

"Something funny?" Dean asked of Sweets grin.

"Sorry, I just realized I can't be someone I'm not." Dean sat back at the statement, thinking Sweets was declining a part in a fellow prisoner's plight. "Yeah, we need to help Chet." Sweets looked around and lowered his voice. "In fact, I think there's a few people we need to help."

* * *

"Great song Ange." Hodgins said walking into her office and wrapping his arms around his wife's waist and began to sway her to the music. "Very tropical." He added as he slowly turned her and pulled her back it his arms.

"Yeah, it brings a sort of warmth around here." Angela said dancing with her husband but with less enthusiasm.

"What's up honey?" He asked, concern filling his vibrant eyes.

"It's just, I need a little warmth, after that last case." Angela said stopping the dance. "I'm sorry Jack, it just still…"

"I know, trust me Ange, that last one, it was, dark." Hodgins said. "I've never seen anything quite like it. Hey maybe we should take a vacation like Sweets did."

"I can see why he went some place tropical, try to capture that warmth. To tell you the truth this music sort of made me think of him, maybe jealous." She tried to smile at the thought.

"Yeah well Sweets deserved that break. We all do, but he really put it into overdrive getting in that guy's head. I mean, I got a little scared there for a second, I uh… well to tell you the truth I didn't know if a person could come back from going down that rabbit hole."

"He did, got us to where we could get the guy." Angela said with a smile that indicated she was proud of their young psychologist. "To tell you the truth I sort of miss him."

"He's been gone what two weeks? He'll be back in a couple more." Hodgins said encouraging her.

"Yeah, I guess. I'm just being silly."

"Well if it bothers you Ange, call him."

"Yeah, well reception in that area is pretty spotty."

"If he knows you're calling him Angela he'll call you back. And you can find a way to contact him." Hodgins knew Sweets once had a bit of a crush on Angela, he didn't mind, he knew why, he himself was infatuated with her, even after years of marriage.

"What do you mean by that?" Angela asked Jack as he left the room. She listened to the music and missed her friend a little bit, more than she thought she might but maybe it was because of the worry after that last case. "Maybe just a quick call."

* * *

_A sincere thank you to those and have reviewed, it is very much appreciated and inspires more updates! I deeply thank you. Thoughts, likes, questions welcome._


	5. Chapter 5

5\. And many Happy Returns

**Sweets &amp; Dean become better friends. Chet has a heart attack and Sweets thinks he's using drugs so he can work more on the line. Sweets decides he can't ignore what's going on with the people around him and will have to get involved.**

* * *

"Any luck?" Hodgins asked once his lovely wife walked out of her office.

"Luck with what?" Cam asked standing over a set of skeletal remains with Dr. Brennan.

"Oh, I tried to call Sweets, see how he was doing. Check and see what he's doing to pass the time under the sun." Angela said shrugging.

"I don't understand how luck would be involved in any of this." Brennan said. The rest were somewhat surprised the conversation didn't upset her since it was taking them away from the investigation they were working on.

"I was just hoping to reach him." Angela explained. "I didn't, it went straight to voice mail."

"I'm sure Booth has his hotel information." Brennan suggested.

"No, I don't want to bother him." Angela said.

"Dr. Sweets doesn't often scare me but I was pretty worried on that last case." Cam said in a honesty she did not often display so candidly so the fact she did meant something.

"Without Dr. Sweets thorough profile Booth would have walked into a very dangerous situation." Brennan reminded them.

"Yeah, I mean I'm glad that he didn't because yeah that would have been disastrous." Angela mentioned. "But I mean, Sweets went into a dark place to get in that guy's head. I mean he poured over some really grizzly stuff day and night. I don't see how that doesn't mess with someone's head."

"Well Sweets is a psychologist." Hodgins reminded them and they waited for a comment from Dr. Brennan on the soft science but she only continued to work.

"Still, he's human." Cam added. "Sweets almost didn't seem himself after that case but hopefully nothing a break and some sunshine couldn't help right?"

"Right, I'm sure he's fine." Angela said picking up her tablet to get back to work.

Brennan looked around at them. _That's it? They've going to drop it? They didn't even notice I didn't attach Sweets work? He's been gone almost three weeks, he's back in another one but still, something isn't right. Sweets would call, maybe sunshine isn't enough. They didn't get the hint I thought they should call the hotel. Maybe I should call myself._

* * *

The hallways were dark as Dean and Sweets quietly walked down the corridor. The pair had managed to walk casually enough after dinner that it appeared that they were doing nothing out of the ordinary. They then waited, unseen until the staff had left and the male nurse left before the entered the infirmary.

"He's on rounds, he won't be back for an hour." Dean observed.

"Lights out in an hour so let's not wait too long." Sweets whispered as they headed towards the darkened room. Sweets wondered if he should have divulged more about Madere's murder but he decided to start on the drug situation at the prison first and see how that went, if he could trust Dean.

"What about the doctor?" Dean asked.

"He just comes in when called and for check ups, he doesn't work here." The pair walked in the door and found the single patient in the small room, Chet.

"Hey buddy." Dean said looking down at the man who looked pale and very ill. Sweets was busy pouring over the medical charts which luckily were low tech and on paper.

"Hey fellas." Chet said slowly opening his eyes to a smile. "What are you doing in here?"

"Well we broke in so keep your voice quiet." Dean urged him. "What happened Chet?"

"Oh you know…" Chet said embarrassed.

"We know you were on some junk." Dean pressed. "Why?"

"I couldn't keep up." Chet confessed. "I thought it would help. Not so much huh?"

Dean could tell the man was far more ill than he should be. "Are they helping you here?"

"I don't know." Chet said getting confused.

Dean looked to Sweets who shook his head "no" in regards to the medical attention.

"Hey Chet, one more thing." Dean said getting Chet's attention again. "We think a few more people might be getting hurt. Where did you get the stuff from, another inmate?"

Chet shook his head no but looked away, he didn't want to say.

"Come on Chet, you can trust us right?" Dean encouraged and Chet wasn't sure why but he felt like he could trust the pair, something about their eyes.

"It's that new guard."

"Guard?" Dean asked surprised, Sweets was surprised as well.

"Yeah, I said I was worried I couldn't keep up, he said he had something for me. Reasonable rate."

Dean looked to Sweets who was busy scribbling on the medical charts but a noise was coming from outside.

"Okay we'd better go Chet, we'll be seeing you." Dean said as he headed for the door while Sweets rushed to fill in more notes. Soon he joined Dean and the pair hid in the hall while a guard did a sweep of the room.

"That was close." Sweets said once the guard was gone.

"Too close." Dean said. "We'd better head back before lights out."

The pair looked and saw no one in the dark corridor so they headed down the hallway.

"Hey, what were you writing on those papers?" Dean asked.

"They're not treating Chet for a drug addiction, just monitoring his heart since that was technically what caused him to collapse. So I put down some notes on treating him accordingly."

"You think they will read them?" Dean asked.

"Well they have a rotation of visiting doctors who volunteer their time. The next one on rotation will assume the doctor before left it."

"Oh, well how did you know what to write?" Dean asked and Sweets was afraid he was caught in the act.

"I uh, used to use." Sweets lied. "Yeah, I did some time in a rehab clinic, volunteered there after."

"Oh, sorry to hear…" Dean said but a guard came upon them in the hall. Sweets turned first and saw the guard but in the darkened hall he hadn't seen Dean yet. Sweets pushed Dean aside and took off running. As he suspected the guard took off Sweets not having seen Dean.

Sweets didn't get far and he knew he wasn't going to be outrunning the guard who had a radio but wanted to put some distance between himself and Dean, at least one of them needed to keep an eye on Chet in case what might happen did, and it did. Sweets rounded the corner but another guard was waiting for him, hitting him the face with the butt of the rifle. Sweets fell the ground in the darkened hall as the two guards decided to accentuate their disdain by kicking him for a while.

"Stop." A voice said and the men did as they were told. A calm and cool Wallace appeared though Sweets was disoriented and breathing heavily. "The box doesn't work for you, so what do you think will?"

"Make an example of him sir?" One of the guards asked.

"Something like that." Wallace said motioning for them to collect Sweets.

* * *

The next day Dean looked around anxiously as they rolled out on the line, Sweets was nowhere in sight. By the time he was back on his feet last night Sweets was long gone. He hadn't liked what Sweets had done but he knew them both getting caught left no one to look after Chet or anyone else for that matter. The fact that Sweets didn't return that night did not bode well with Dean.

They pulled up at the job site and Dean was surprised to see a truck already there. His stomach sank slightly when he saw Sweets there and it was obvious Sweets' day had started far earlier than the rest of them.

Sweets moved about his work on the line, clearing trees. He wasn't given saws he just hauled away what had been done already, just hauling it away. Sweets was working in a different area though in full view. Dean noted it was work for several men, not just one – it soon became obvious the man was to be made an example of.

Sweets picked up move large logs and while the recent manual labor had done much to increase his physical physique for the work, having done this since three that morning, as it was now seven in the morning, was exhausting to anyone, nor had he slept any the night before - the guards had made sure of that. Anytime he dozed off he they would splash him with water, hit him or shock him, he never knew what was coming next. Sweets became very acute to not falling asleep.

Now the manual labor under the hot sun was not only tiring on its own but the lack of breakfast and prolonged work hours were making it near impossible.

"Hey kid, want some water?" The guard asked Sweets who nodded yes. As Sweets approached the guard threw it at him and laughed.

Dean was watching from a short distance and moved forward when he saw what the guard did. Sweets saw Dean move and shook his head slightly for Dean to not make a move and reluctantly Dean stopped, again two of them in trouble would do anyone else little good.

"Thank you sir that was delightful." Sweets said to the guard and then returned to his work. He ached as he lifted a heavy log and drug it to the truck. The work continued in the same fashion, Sweets became fueled by his anger towards the guards, his predicament and whoever it was that handed out the breaks – or the lack there of. The anger within fueled him until lunch when he was allowed to sit but not eat. Instead from a distance of twenty feet or so he watched as the others ate and he was instructed to watch.

Dean couldn't stomach his sandwich at the sight of the situation. The guard approached him to find out what the issue was but as Dean was about to stand and give his personal opinion of the matter again he caught a glimpse of Sweets slyly shaking his head no, suggesting Dean back down and he did. Dean's eyes were locked on Sweets though each bite was nearly impossible to swallow.

_For a guy who murdered two people, close to him, in cold blood, he is eager to help a fellow person in trouble _Sweets considered about Dean as the break ended. Work resumed though the afternoon proved difficult for Sweets. The increasing heat and the decrease in energy were equally against him. As he began to fail to complete his assigned tasks the guard assigned to him, Lee, took to taunting him, then, shoving and by the close of the work day, an occasional hit.

The head guard called for quitting time and the men began to head to the truck. Sweets felt a relief that the day may be over.

"What are you doing?" Lee asked Sweets. "Your work day is far from over."

* * *

It wasn't until they got back to the yard that Dean realized Sweets had not returned with them. He found another inmate who was in the last truck to leave and found out as they left for the day, Sweets was still working. Dean was glad his weekly phone call was due.

* * *

Sweets could feel the cool evening breeze against his skin, it was moving quickly, faster than a breeze and he opened an eye to see he was lying on the uncomfortable surface of the truck bed. He had remembered working continuously though not well, he was dropping more tree trunks and limbs than he was carrying, causing Lee to react unpleasantly. Once the sun set down he said it was time to go and Sweets was pretty sure he must have dropped on his knees as passed out at the sound of that. Lee must have thrown him in the back of the truck. Problem was this time of year getting dark meant about eight or so at night, which meant he had worked a practically continuous 18 physical labor day.

The truck stopped and Sweets idly wondered if he was to be shot and buried under a tree next to the name 'Madere.' He heard voices, one of which never meant good news.

"Get him up." Wallace ordered and Sweets could feel himself being pulled by his heels and pulled up though he could barely stand on his own two feet.

"What were you doing the other night?" Wallace asked. Sweets wondered why it came down to punishment and then questions. That led Sweets to wonder what had happened.

"I got lost." Sweets said.

Wallace smiled and it was obvious he didn't appreciate Sweets answer and delivered a blow to his stomach himself.

"That must hurt not having eaten since dinner last night." Wallace smiled. "Did you see it out there today? Those men out there the ones you want so badly to impress, the did _nothing, **nothing **_ to help you. Remember that before your next stunt boy. I will break you I promise you that – I have everything on my side to make that happen, you have nothing."

_Help? _Sweets thought to himself as he coughed and hoped it wasn't followed by blood being expelled. _Who is going to help with men and guns everywhere? This guy is nuts._

"So what were you doing?" Wallace asked again and Sweets could tell this was very important to the man.

"I was going to meet someone, I wanted to score some stuff, make me work faster." Sweets figured it was a good opportunity to score some info as well.

"Why, you're production has been increasing quiet well, it would seem that hard labor is doing a body good." Wallace said pointing to Sweets arms though they were covered in a shirt. "Your strength has increased quite a bit, your attitude leaves much to be considered. But! I am a forgiving man, one mistake can be forgotten after a day."

Sweets realized what Wallace was getting at, it seemed each time his punishment lasted on day. Still he hadn't answered the drug question.

"Keep your nose clean." Wallace said nodding and the guards pulled Sweets away before he could ask more questions.

Sweets wasn't sure where they were headed, the room was fuzzy and his vision unclear, his head pounded, his chest ached and his stomach burned. Soon enough he felt the hard cement floor under his body, a hard drop followed by a commotion. Sweets wanted to brace for whatever could happen next but he was far too exhausted. He tensed as he felt arms go under his and pull him from the ground.

"No more…" He slurred.

"Hey, hey, careful." A voice said and Sweets realized the pairs of hands that had lifted him from the ground were not rough, but careful. His own feet tried to keep up half of the deal and walk to where he was being taken. He didn't feel worried, a sort of hush fell around where he was as his tired eyes tried to open to the too bright for his eyes room.

"Here." Someone said and Sweets felt light on his feet as he felt a surface below him, far softer than a concrete floor but no Temperpedic.

The support left and Sweets wondered where he was, the light was softer and he slowly opened them to see a bunk above. _Home _Sweets said to himself in a sarcastic sort of way, but it was better than a dirt bed.

"Hey Kale." A voice said and Sweets wondered why the voice was close but not talking to him. _Oh yeah. _Sweets thought turning his head slowly to see Dean. "Glad to see you again."

"Yeah thanks." Sweets said though barely audible his voice was so parched. Someone handed over a water bottle and Sweets quickly drained it. It was sent to be refilled, Sweets could hear the exchange. _No help huh? _Sweets thought to himself as he drank a second bottle.

"It's not much, but I was hoping you would be back." Dean said opening a napkin to reveal a biscuit and some sort of meat with a banana as well. Sweets knew by Dean taking the food back with him he had eaten less that day. _Murdered people my ass, what the hell is going on here? _Sweets thought in regards to Dean.

"Thanks." Sweets said taking a bit timidly. The rest of the men backed up to let him rest and Sweets questioned if they were curious or concerned, perhaps both and both non-admittedly.

"That was stupid what you did." Dean said, slight anger in his voice. "Thanks, but stupid, and do not repeat."

Sweets nodded. "Not a problem."

"So uh, you gonna make it?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I guess. Maybe some rest, I don't know."

"You sound sort of, defeated."

"Just a bad day." Sweets said savoring each bite of the banana.

"Just another day."

Sweets shook his head and smiled. "No, today was my birthday."

Dean nodded. "Some birthday."

* * *

_Okay, so I thought it would be sort of interesting for Sweets worst day there to be his birthday, but I had to do it since today is MY birthday! But the coolest thing about today being my birthday is that I share it with Jensen Ackles…you know Dean…. Yeah this isn't meant to be a cross over so in no way is he Dean Winchester but it just makes for a pleasant visual. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, my birthday was slightly better than Sweets day, slightly…._


	6. Chapter 6

6\. Digging

_Funny thing, I didn't intend for Dean to be Dean, I either specifically pick names for people or I pick them very randomly for small characters - like literally who walks by I name them after that person. But Dean popped in my head when I needed one and I pictured the character as this huge scary guy with tats and mangled up skin. Then I ended incorporating his character in more and started watching Supernatural and then he just started becoming other Dean and that made for a pleasant visual. So I've totally spilled the beans that there is absolutely no rhyme or reason sometimes to how these stories go, I just put the pedal to the medal and hope my brain works it out._

_Sorry for the delay in updates. I was sick and then playing catch up and then a bunch of stuff came my way._

* * *

**Sweets and Dean go and see Chet who admits he got drugs but not from an inmate – from the new guard. Sweets leaves instructions for doctors to properly help Chet but upon leaving Sweets the pair is found but only Sweets is captured – set to be punished before everyone else the next day – a long and excruciating day. The inmates help Sweets upon his return, Dean also helps leaving Sweets continues to question Dean's true incarceration.**

* * *

The morning came far too early but Sweets managed as long as he operated on a near savage type survival mindset. He ignored all the aches and pains, showered early since he had only passed out mid-conversation with Dean last night and dressed for the day.

"You look like hell, I still think you should have gone to the infirmary." Dean said getting in line behind Sweets for breakfast.

"Yeah well I don't think that was in warden's plan."

"Wallace is an asshat." Dean concluded.

"Well there's very little doubt in that." Sweets commented as they took their trays and headed towards the table.

"Have you heard anything more on Chet?" Sweets asked.

Dean shook his head, "no, but no one's been carted away so I'll have to deduce that he's fine."

"That uh reminds me Dean, uh, you said you were out of here in a month." Sweets said wondering if letting Dean in on the murder situation was a good idea.

"Well, three weeks now." Dean said. "That was a week ago you know."

"Right, you said you were going to Georgia though, not to the big house."

"Yeah, I'm getting transferred back for trial, whole thing is nuts."

Sweets nodded along, _does that mean he's safe? Madere was killed on his way to the big house, maybe Dean is different and will be okay._

"Why Georgia?" Sweets asked, he couldn't help but ask questions.

Dean cleared his throat, pushed the food around his plate. "That's where my wife was uh, where everything happened."

Sweets looked at Dean's finger, no ring, nor a ring mark. "Were you married a long time?"

"Yeah, high school sweethearts."

Sweets could feel the tension that set in but he had to know, why was there a gap? "Why did you do it Dean, what happened?"

Both men had stopped eating, their eyes never meeting and tension easing in. Sweets wasn't sure why he was bringing this up, but it had been bothering him.

"You know, sometimes people just snap." Dean said.

"Are you sure?" Sweets said, his face devoid of emotion as he asked. "You don't seem like a vengeful person."

Dean's expression suggested he didn't appreciate the question. "Right, so why did you shoot the state trooper?"

Sweets felt cornered, did he tell Dean he really was innocent? "I guess anyone is capable of something when they are put to the test."

The pair ceased conversation and Sweets didn't divulge his topic of Madere's murder. The conversation was over, silence prevailed and tension hung in the air.

* * *

The men were issued towards the door and Sweets didn't like how things were left between he and Dean but being guys, both were hesitant to say much more.

"Hey Dean, about before…"

"Forget it Kale." Dean said with a grin. Sweets smiled back but something else bothered him.

"About that…"

"Mallory!" Lee, the guard shouted.

Sweets continued talking. "I wanted to tell you the…"

"MALLORY!" Lee shouted again.

"Dude, he's shouting at you." Dean said stopping Sweets from his confession of the same nature.

"Oh." Sweets said turning. "Oh yeah."

Sweets left to see what Lee wanted, leaving Dean to wonder why the man hadn't answered automatically to his own name.

"Yes sir?" Sweets asked trying to swallow the hatred of having to address the oppressor as such.

"Need you on special detail today." Lee said counting people off the clipboard. "Gerald has work for you."

Sweets wasn't excited, Gerald was the new guard now known to dole out drugs cheaply. Sweets wasn't sure if this was work or a shake down. He stiffened as he headed that way.

"Yes sir?" Sweets asked having found Gerald around the side of the building.

"Cooper died." Gerald said surprised. "Need you to bury him."

Sweets was surprised at the nature of the conversation.

"The dog stupid!" Gerald shouted and nodded to a blood hound behind him.

"Oh, we have dogs?" Sweets had never heard any before.

"You don't ask questions stupid!" Gerald shouted and threw a shovel at Sweets. "Over there should work." Gerald nodded to the area just at the perimeter of the area. "I'm watching you, I just got other work to do here too."

"Okay, well is there like a box or a…"

"No you dumb shit! Now go!" Gerald lunged at Sweets who gladly took several quick feet away from the nutty guard.

Sweets carried the dog who had passed to the edge of the property and began to dig as the rest of the trucks with the men left. It wasn't the king of burial he imagined the dog should have but for the savages that were in charge it was better than leaving him in a field. Sweets began to dig and found his thoughts were only on the dog. It struck him as odd, usually his mind thought about a lot of things but lately it just seemed to be on one task at a time. He didn't feel the need to question things like he once did. He was just curious about the dog, he had a name so who did he belong to and how did he die?

Sweets dug deeper, he found that the physical labor hadn't bothered him like it did weeks ago. He dug a bit deeper than he had to but he enjoyed working alone and wanted to dog deep enough no other animals would get to him so he kept digging. Soon the dirt was almost to his height so he knew he had to be about six feet under. He went to crawl out of the hole and pull the dog towards him when something caught his attention. Something familiar. Sweets pulled on the dirty ivory object and soon in his hand found a femur. _No way Madere decomposed this quickly. _Sweets looked out from his hole in the ground and saw only Gerald taking inventory, he seemed busy. Sweets took his shovel and pulled at the dirt around him. His hole soon became larger and larger and at his feet he had three skulls, found together, as though they had been buried on top of each other. _I'm not Dr. Brennan but I've seen enough of these to know they're not old._

"Hey! Where did you go?!" Gerald shouted and Sweets quickly climbed out of the hole so he could be seen. "Oh, there you are. Done yet?!"

"Almost." Sweets said pulling the dog down into the hole. He covered the bones with the dog's body, hoping the pass of the body would make it easier to scan the ground and find the remains later.

"Well hurry up, the warden is waiting on you." Somehow that sentence didn't make Sweets want to work faster.

* * *

Once the dirt had covered the ground Sweets looked to the earth around him, where he was at was fairly level but in other spots he could see it has been disturbed but like they had tried to make it flat. He wondered if that was where Madere was buried, possibly others.

"Come on!" Gerald shouted seeing Sweets was done. Sweets followed, wondering what was next.

* * *

Sweets was sweaty and dirty when he walked into the warden's office. It was cool in there, a stark contrast from the rest of the place or the outside.

"Did you leave much dirt outside?" Wallace asked Sweets harshly putting away his keys, he had just returned from somewhere.

"Sorry, sir, I was digging a rather large hole."

"That's why I wanted you in here son." Wallace said his voice softening. "I wanted to think you for taking care of Cooper."

Sweets saw a photo on the warden's desk, the dog was apparently his personal pet.

Sweets was confused by the asshat - he seemed sensitive to his dog's death but little else. "Yes sir, I uh buried him deep."

"I'll need to put a marker by him." Wallace said still contemplative. "And now I can see him from outside my window.

Sweets was confused. "Outside your window sir?"

Wallace turned to face him with a bitter glance. Sweets was wished he hadn't said anything.

"You were told to bury him under that tree!" Wallace said pointing to the tree outside his window.

Sweets shook his head, he wasn't going down for this one.

"No, Gerald told me to bury him at the edge of the property." Sweets became nervous he would need to rebury the dog, the bones he found would be obvious.

Wallace's eyes lit up. "Where by the edge?"

Sweets knew the ground would be obvious where he had been digging.

"Opposite the hall." Sweets felt his heart beginning to race faster and hoped his mind would start moving faster as well. "I buried him about four feet deep, is that good enough sir?"

The warden's face seemed to relax some. "Did you see anything there?"

"Like other dogs?" Sweets asked playing dumb.

Wallace backed off. He seemed to think something over.

"Is everything okay sir?" Sweets asked.

"Yes." Wallace said with a smile. "Good work son. Now the other reason I called you up here. They have room for you."

"Where is that sir?"

"In a couple weeks you move up to the big house."

Sweets was not thrilled.

* * *

"Hey Bones do you want pizza or Chinese?" Booth asked upon seeing her his office door.

"Neither Booth." By her tone Booth could tell that something was bothering his lovely wife.

"What's going on Bones? Something bothering you?"

"Yeah, I called Sweets." Brennan said, lines of worry etched at the edges of her eyes.

"Well don't worry because he doesn't answer you know they don't have good reception there."

"No Booth, I'm worried because he never checked into his hotel."

* * *

_Okay, not long but I haven't updated in so long I want to get something up today. So what on earth is going on at this place! Thoughts? All to revealed by the way in the next couple chapters._


	7. Chapter 7

7\. The Heart Matters

**Sweets buries the warden's pet blood hound but in the wrong spot - only to find enough human remains in one spot to make him think there might be many, many more remains of prisoners on the grounds. His feelings are not comforted by the fact that the warden is now ready to transfer Sweets out to the big house. Back home Brennan discovers that Sweets never checked into his hotel.**

* * *

Sweets finished out his day doing work for Gerald around the grounds. It wasn't as hard of work as working in the field and the fact that the jobs changed broke up the monotony. Sweets couldn't shake the feeling he was being tested at something. Gerald on the other hand proved to be an idiot. He couldn't remember where he was sending Sweets half the time and put to rest the question in Sweets mind if Gerald knew the bodies were buried where they were. It became clear to him that as the new guy, he was not in on anything that was going on. Sweets also quickly noticed how much the other guards steered clear of Gerald, making Sweets wonder more about the newer guard with his side drug deals.

"Here they come." Gerald said as the trucks returned with the men. "You can get in line."

Sweets headed to the area where the men would disembark from the vehicles and while most of them got off the trucks slowly one person seemed more anxious to get to the front.

"Hey Dean."

"Oh man, you're alright." Dean said with a manly sort of relief.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"You weren't on the trucks, I thought maybe, like the other day."

"Oh, no, thanks." Sweets said, he hadn't realized how it may have looked, nor was he used to people being worried about him. Then again, he had been just as worried about anything happening to Dean too. "I guess a couple of guys have to stick together around here."

"In a totally non-gay way though." Dean clarified.

"Yes!" Sweets said quickly. "Very much so. I mean you're nice but…"

"No more explanation needed." Dean said and both men recovered from their brush with touchy feely conversation. "So what was going on, where were you?"

Sweets looked around, he decided it was time to talk to Dean.

"Let's play a game of cards." Sweets said and glanced over at the area where he had dug earlier. Dean's eyes followed but he got the idea. They headed inside where there were more people and less attention from the guards. The others dispersed to their activities and showers while Sweets and Dean moved to play a card game by their bunks.

Sweets lowered his voice but kept his body language as though it was casual, Dean did the same. Dean dealt the cards.

"So what's with the fresh dirt?" Dean asked putting down a card.

"That was my job today, burying the warden's dog."

"Warden got a lot of dogs? I see a few piles of dirt recently disturbed over there."

"I was hoping you'd notice." Sweets said laying down a card and taking another. "I got the dog in the ground but I also found some remains."

"What do you mean remains?"

Sweets jogged the cards on the table signaling Dean to not look surprised at what he was going to say.

"Human remains. At least three bodies."

"Could be old…"

"They're new." Sweets said. "Recent anyway."

"How do you know?" Dean asked, perhaps concerned Sweets was some sort of serial killer.

"It's a long story." Sweets said. "Nothing weird, but, just trust me, I know. And I also have a pretty good idea of who they are."

"How's that?" Dean asked.

"A couple of weeks ago I spent the day in solitary."

"Yeah I remember that." Dean said dealing the cards again.

Sweets was surprised, he hadn't really known Dean just yet but he guessed he had gotten just about everyone's attention when that happened.

"Right, well, remember Madere?" Sweets asked.

Dean nodded. "Yeah he went up to the big house."

"Well he didn't make it there." Sweets said. "I've got a suspicion that no one does."

Dean was silent for a moment and kept playing cards as he thought.

"You suspected this for a while?" He asked finally breaking the silence during the pretend card game.

"Yeah, I wasn't sure and…"

"You didn't know who to trust telling it to." Dean finished for him.

"Yeah." Sweets said.

"That's why you were asking about when I was leaving." Dean said.

"Yeah. I uh…"

"Thanks man, I appreciate it." Dean said. "But that's not the only thing that's bothering you."

Sweets laughed, he wasn't any better at poker than he was at hiding his thoughts.

"Yeah, well I don't know if the warden doesn't like me for nearly killing his friend or if he suspects I found the bones."

"And that's got you worried?"

"No, he wants to send me to the big house in a month."

"Not good."

Sweets shook his head. "No, not good."

"I'm heading to Georgia soon, I can get word out. Wait, do you think he's killing anyone off who leaves?" Dean was slightly more concerned now.

"He only seems to be taking people out that head to the big house."

"We need some copies of records, to prove it then." Dean said and glanced up to see Chet coming in the door, released from the infirmary.

"I'm open to ideas." Sweets said.

Dean laid down his hand, a full house. "Yeah I've got a couple."

* * *

"I checked and Bones is right, Sweets never checked into his hotel." Booth said ending his cell phone call.

"I'm checking his credit card activity." Angela said. "But I've got nothing for the last three plus weeks now."

"I seriously doubt that Sweets wouldn't use his credit cards for anything." Cam said.

"Wait, are we thinking something may have happened to Sweets?" Hodgins asked out of disbelief and not wanting to believe it could be true.

"Well I'm pretty sure he didn't go on a cash only sabbatical." Angela said in annoyance. She knew she should have followed her instinct that something was wrong.

"I'm putting an APB on Sweets and his car." Booth said picking up his phone again.

"Don't bother, about the car anyway." Angela said still typing since Booth had mentioned the car. "I've got it."

"Where?" Cam &amp; Booth asked simultaneously.

"Jackson County Louisiana Impound Yard." She read on the screen. "It was brought into police inventory three weeks ago."

"So you're telling me Sweets has been missing for three weeks?" Booths said, mostly thinking out loud.

"And none of noticed or knew?" Angela said with a sadness in her voice. "Yeah, looks that way."

"Louisiana, Jackson County, why is that familiar?" Booth said, thinking to himself.

"I can cross reference any of the cases we have worked on from there." Angela suggested.

"Okay yeah." Booth said. "I'm calling the local office there to find out why Sweets car ended up in the impound yard."

* * *

"You've got the plan?" Dean asked Sweets under his breath as they waited in the food line.

"Yeah, but I don't like it, it's dangerous if they catch you." Sweets warned.

"Well if I get caught it's me in the box this time, you don't need to be going another round with the warden or he's likely to move your transfer date up to tomorrow."

Sweets couldn't argue with that. They moved forward in the line but they could hear grumbling going on.

"What's going on?" Dean asked trying to see ahead.

"Just keep moving or you'll get nothing!" The man doling out the portions shouted.

Dean and Sweets quickly found out with the rather small helping of mush that was handed out.

"The cook on strike?" Dean asked.

"Smart mouth huh?"

Dean shook his head and looked at Sweets. "My mouth usually gets me in trouble."

Sweets got why it was Dean was usually so quiet.

"It's just a noticeable change in cuisine." Sweets commented to the man. "Sort of went from crap to crappier."

"Your mouth has problems too huh?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, well my sarcastic thoughts seem to be bleeding into my speech lately."

"Well if you two don't keep moving you're both going to be bleeding on the floor.

"From the cooking?" Dean asked and Sweets tried not to laugh as they left with their trays for the table.

Dean mentioned it first. "What do you think is up? I mean the food was never something to write home about but…"

"I know, did they run out of money or something?" Sweets picked at the pile of goop before him. "Guess we don't need to worry about that though if this works."

"Say when." Dean said eyeing the goop the same.

"Anytime because here comes Chet." Sweets said earning an eye roll from Dean who abruptly began to breathe heavy and clutch at his chest.

"Dean are you okay?" Sweets said in a slightly raised voice.

"I don't know, it hurts." Dean grabbed at his chest. Sweets didn't have to call for help, luckily this time guards came quickly.

"What's going on here?" Lee asked.

"He's having a heart attack!" Sweets said feigning much concern. "He needs help quickly!"

"We don't have a doctor in house." The guard said to the other.

"Call 911." Frank said.

"There's no time." Sweets said. "I used to be a doctor on the outside. If we can get him to the infirmary I can help."

Dean kicked up his chest pains a notch causing the guards to stop thinking the situation thru and soon they were on their way.

The guards laid Dean down on the bed and Sweets picked up a stethoscope and began to listen to his heartbeat. He then opened a needle and looked around for a vial or something. Dean's eyes widened at the sight of the needle and Sweets' intentions. Sweets turned the bottle so that Dean could see it was nothing more than saline. The guards looked at the needle Sweets had in hand, Lee looked slightly faint.

"I'll tell the warden." Lee said looking for a reason to leave.

"No, he's at that charity ball." Frank reminded him.

"It's under control now." Sweets said standing so they couldn't see him insert the needle into the mattress instead of Dean's arm as his body relaxed. Sweets went back to listening to the heartbeat. "Yes, it's steady now. He'll need to rest and be left alone or he could crash again."

"Right, well one of us needs to stay." Lee said.

"Did you hear that?" Sweets asked but no sounds were around. "Yeah no hurry to get back, the others seemed pretty upset about the food but I doubt a room of hungry criminals would do anything questionable."

Lee &amp; Frank looked at each other and immediately bought into it. "Let's go. He's sleeping it off he'll be fine. Besides where's he going to go?" Frank said leaving with Lee and Sweets.

Sweets got back in time to eat his pile of mush, now cold before it was time to head back to his bunk. He laid on it and stared at Dean's empty bunk, hoping the plan would work, worrying what that he had gotten him involved too much. No matter how many criminals Sweets was surrounded by, the evil deeds they had done, he couldn't completely shake who he was, someone who cared. It was a long night for Sweets, one filled with worry.


	8. Chapter 8

8\. Thinking Out Loud

_Okay, two shorter chapters but at least they are both in the same day!_

* * *

**Dean becomes involved in helping to find out what is happening to the missing prisoners. The team realize Sweets is missing. Dean fakes a heart attack to get into the hardly monitored infirmary.**

* * *

"Okay people you've all got coffee. Now tell me what we've got." Booth said as they all stood in a huddle over the exam table though nothing but papers - instead of remains - were in front of them.

"Sweets left for vacation after the Cromwell case three, almost four weeks ago." Brennan said setting the time line at a starting point.

"I can't believe that we didn't notice Sweets was gone for all this time." Cam said with a heavy note of disbelief in her voice.

"After the Cromwell case I think we all just wanted to give him some space." Hodgins said thinking back.

Booth nodded. "I knew things had gotten out of hand when I found Sweets in his office with all the lights off working under his desk."

"You think he snapped?" Cam asked surprised. She hadn't known the details of how things had gotten for Sweets, she had only seen the end result.

"No, he hadn't snapped." Booth said definitely. "He was way too in tune with the guy. He had enough files and profiles on his desk, walls and floors to look like a serial killer himself. Every time another body rolled in the door - mutilated like it was Sweets got further into the work, finding out what made the guy tick. He went down that rabbit hole after Cromwell but it was a dark path."

"Yeah the psycho was one of the worse we'd seen. I think we all wanted to nail that bastard." Hodgins said.

"Sweets figured him out, found out what made him tick, led us right to him." Cam recalled.

"And what was the cost?" Angela questioned. "Did we really think a vacation in the Caymans was best for Sweets?"

"Well we know he didn't make it there." Brennan said trying to bring their focus back to the work before them.

"Do you think Sweets, maybe he…the case…" Angela was afraid if she said the word 'suicide' it would somehow jinx it into being true.

"Dr. Sweets wouldn't." Cam said with a certainty they all questioned. Why was she so definitive?"

"Well he fueled up twice on the way." Angela said looking at the evidence before them. "The second time was at a gas station in Northern Louisiana, Jackson County."

"And that is where the car was impounded?" Cam asked.

"Yeah, they said it was found on the side of the road." Booth said, it was picked up and towed away. After I called they checked the trunk, Sweets' suitcase was in it, untouched."

"So somehow Sweets filled up, then his car is towed from the side of the road not far from that gas station." Cam said.

"I've checked, we had no cases in that area that we worked on, no links to any of us." Angela said.

"Still, the name sounds familiar." Booth said unable to shake it.

"Well this was of interest." Angela said bringing up an image on the screen. The last gas station that Sweets filled up at was about ten miles from where a state trooper was shot."

"Killed?" Hodgins asked.

"No, he was shot but in a coma. They caught the guy that shot him though, Kale Mallory." Angela explained.

"That name sounds familiar too." Booth said. "He tried to call me!"

Angela punched a couple of buttons and his mug shot came up. "He's been arrested a dozen times for various petty crimes. Huh, he sort of looks like Sweets."

"Yeah like a scruffier and more dangerous version of Sweets." Hodgins said looking at the screen.

"So what do we think, Sweets tried to intervene when the trooper got shot?" Cam grasped at guesses.

"Yeah but then why haven't we heard from Sweets?" Brennan asked not wanting to think of the obvious but Cam voiced it anyway.

"So the shooter could have killed Sweets whose body has not yet been recovered and maybe no one knew was missing so no one was looking. The cops assume the car is just abandoned and so they tow it away, not knowing there's a connection."

"It sounds logical but I don't like it." Brennan said.

"It doesn't feel right." Booth said. "Why is this Mallory guy trying to call me then?"

"Well maybe he's calling to confess or maybe bargain if he knows where Sweets body is at." Cam said but shuddered after she said it. She wouldn't have shuddered if it were a case, not their friend.

"I've tried to call this Jackson County Correctional place." Angela said. "They won't put a call thru to any prisoner."

"They'll talk to me." Booth said and left.

* * *

"Better hurry up or you'll miss breakfast." Sweets eyes opened to hear who talked to him and looked over to see Dean on the edge of his own cot.

Sweets sat up too quickly in surprise and hit his head on the bed above.

"Hey easy there." Dean said with a grin. "I have that affect when people see me."

Sweets yawned but smiled.

"Hey yawning when you get up means you didn't get enough sleep."

"Yeah, I didn't fall asleep till a little bit ago." Sweets said having finally succumbed to exhaustion after hours of tossing and turning.

"Yeah they just sent me back. Let's get some grub, I've got lots to share." Dean nodded and Sweets was filled with a great anticipation of what Dean had learned.

"Oh look, Oatmeal goop today." Dean said looking down at his plate. The grumble among the prisoners was growing over the food.

"It's going to be hard to put in a full day's work on this." Sweets said sitting down to look at all the empty compartments on the tray and the one small pile of goop."

"Well let's say that this is the least of our worries." Dean said in a low voice.

"Did you find something?" Sweets asked, voice equally as low. Both were glad that Chet was out of sight this morning. "I was afraid you'd get caught sneaking out of the infirmary."

"Nah, it's like we thought, no doctors on call, they forgot I was even there. Plus the warden was out. I found it fast and was in and out."

"So you did find something." Sweets said with growing anticipation.

"Yeah, do you want the bad news or the really bad news?"

"Gosh, it's hard to pick." Sweets said sarcastically while trying to take a bite of the toxic goop.

"Well things usually go from bad to worse so we'll start there. I found a list of people, about two dozen, names checked off, Madere is one of them. There's another name after him, remember Wegenka? Yeah me either, he was a quiet guy but after I saw his name on the list I realized I hadn't seen him in a couple of weeks."

"I haven't heard any shots or anything." Sweets said thinking back.

"And no one would have except for the fact you were in the box that day." Dean reminded him. "I've been thinking about it - you said the warden said that wasn't the plan. I think they load these guys up to tell them they're going to the big house, shoot them en route so no one sees anything, hears anything, bring them back to bury them on the grounds where no one's going to be looking."

"No one ever actually gets transferred there." Sweets said realizing the truth.

"Yeah, but if you hadn't heard that shot that day, Gerald hadn't screwed up on telling you where to bury the dog, we wouldn't have known." Dean pointed out.

"Right." Sweets said. "We gotta tell someone."

"Yeah well I had the phone in my hand last night but you have to have some sort of code to call out and it wasn't nine." Dean said trying some of the vial breakfast.

"Crap, we're really stuck here." Sweets said.

"Yeah but I didn't get to the worst parts."

"Oh goody, what's that?" Sweets asked rubbing his head.

Dean cleared his throat. "Your name is next on the list."

* * *

Sweets tried to keep his mind on the hole he was digging along the side of the road but he couldn't help but leave his mind to wander to who would be digging his hole after Wallace had him shot.

"Hey it's not gonna happen alright?" Dean said reading Sweets thoughts as he worked beside him. "I've got a phone call tonight."

Sweets had wondered why Dean hadn't acted so worried since having told him about his place on the list.

"Yeah, who are you going to call that's going to listen to a couple of prisoners?" Sweets asked.

"I've got friends." Dean said with a winning smile. "Don't worry okay?"

"Right." Sweets said the shrugged his shoulders. "I guess I've seen worse."

"Worse than these bastards? I mean they dip at the bottom of the whole humanity barrel. What have you seen that's worse?"

Sweets eyes darkened for a moment and he paused in shoveling but then shook his head and continued digging. "It's nothing."

"Come on, enlighten me. Or at least get my mind off digging this damn hole." Dean said.

Sweets shrugged, anything thing to get their minds off this work.

"Recently, there was this case, Dr. Ivan Cromwell." Sweets said feeling his mind slipping back into the case but he continued to dig. "Bodies came up, not just dead bodies - mutilated. The guy made Jack the Ripper look like he was playing Operation and the nose kept going off."

Dean wanted to smile but he could tell this wasn't a joke or story or fan fiction.

"The guy didn't stop either, bodies kept coming in. He left them where they could be found, places like school playgrounds, convents, you get the idea, but no evidence to who he was or where he was working."

"Well you know his name so…"

"Yeah, we found him." Sweets said, mood still dark and his digging still methodical. "After fifteen bodies had piled up, nearly one every other day for a month."

"How did you get him?" Dean asked sensing the darkness of Sweets involvement and confirming what he suspected, that this man was not Kale Mallory.

"I went after him." Sweets said. "Not with a gun - I left that to Boo….other people. I looked at him, his profile. I got into his mind, figured out how he worked and what made him tick, what made him kill and why."

"Sounds like a dark path." Dean said slowing on his digging.

"Yeah, well after that you have to take some time off."

"Like here?" Dean joked with the intent of pulling Sweets back from the dark place Dean could see him going into.

Sweets smiled and Dean could see he was back - away from that place.

"Yeah, this is a cake walk after that." Sweets said digging with a strange happiness - anything better that _that _case.

"Well, you got one hell of a work out in the deal." Dean said and Sweets took a second to stop thinking about inmates being murdered, corrupt drug dealing guards and imminent deal to look down at himself. His time in the shower was spent looking just about everywhere but himself. In the last month of physical labor Sweets had developed quite the striking physique.

_If I get out of **this **one I really will go to the Caymans. This time I might even take my shirt off. Oh, right, if I don't get shot and buried first._

* * *

_So what is up with the warden? And what's Dean's deal? Will they in fact talk to Booth? Will there be another statement with a question? Nope. ;)  
_

_Hope you enjoyed. Thank you for reading I do sincerely appreciate the faves, follows and reviews!_


	9. Chapter 9

9\. Dark Days

**Sweets finds out from Dean's investigating that Sweets name is next on the warden's list of those to be killed. The team is investigating Sweets possible whereabouts as Booth finally recalls getting a phone calls that he kept ignoring from a Kale Mallory in a Louisiana jail.**

* * *

"So what did they say?" Brennan asked as Booth returned after ending a series of phone calls.

"They wouldn't talk to me." Booth said in a low voice. "They wouldn't release any information on Kale Mallory since he is an active case. They also don't allow any in person visits at the facility."

"Is that normal?" Angela asked feeling that it was strange.

"It depends." Booth explained. "I talked to the warden there, from what he said, this Jackson County Correctional Annex is a temporary holding facility. Their actual jail is so full they don't have room for anyone so they are held there."

Hodgins began tapping away at his keyboard while they continued to talk.

"But if Kale Mallory called you…" Brennan began.

"He did but since then he has lost phone privileges." Booth explained though for some reason he was now very bothered he had missed the original calls.

"Sounds like this Mallory guy must be a real piece of work if he got his phone privileges revoked." Cam said.

Booth nodded. "Yeah the Warden said that he gets real out of line but he's due for a transfer to the larger facility soon."

"I wouldn't count on that." Hodgins said looking at his screen.

"Hodgins what database are you in?" Cam asked upon seeing the screen.

"That's not important." Hodgins said minimizing it. "What is interesting is that no one has actually been transferred from the annex to the larger facility in the last six months."

"No openings at the larger facility?" Cam asked.

"No, there are. When I logged in it looks like some other people may have made that same connection." Hodgins explained.

"So wait, people are at the annex, intended to be transferred up and even when there are openings, they're not going?" Booth asked.

"It could have something to do with this." Angela said going thru some financial pages. "The annex facility received very little funding. The warden there, Clayton Wallace promised the facility could turn a profit. The warden sends the inmates out to do work, undercutting many local contractors."

"I thought chain gangs were illegal." Hodgins asked.

"I guess technically they aren't on chains." Angela said. "There's not much here, no one's allowed near the workers for safety reasons. They work out in more isolated areas."

"May be it's about more than safety reasons." Booth said. "This warden keeping people there would give him more laborers."

"Right, but with the number of people coming in and none going out the place would be overpopulated." Angela explained.

"So where are those people going?" Cam asked.

"It sounds like I need to head south and find out." Booth said but the look on his wife's face told him he wasn't going alone.

* * *

The trucks pulled back up to the Annex and the only bright spot that Sweets could focus on what the temporary drop in humidity, that and his friend Dean. The pair walked inside quietly - they didn't often talk, it was like they wanted to, but they both had something they were keeping, had the circumstances been different, maybe they would have said more. Still, Sweets felt a sanity with his a friend who knew some of what he knew. _I just can't see Dean as a killer, maybe I'm not really a psychologist anymore, maybe I can't really read people. _He thought to himself as he laid on his bed a moment, waiting for the shower line to dwindle down some.

"Hey I'll be back, I'm going to make my phone call." Dean said and Sweets nodded, rest was beckoning.

"I don't know what's up with this crap!" One of the inmates - large with a deep voice shouted. "Where's the food going?"

"Hey man, keep it down." Another inmate said jerking his head towards the guards.

"I don't care man, how many days are we going to be eating next to nothing? What's going on anyway?" The man shouted again. Sweets was curious of the same as well.

"Hey buddy!" Chet said quickly approaching Sweets who continued to lay on the bed and enjoy a moment's rest. "Hey you're looking pretty good! I haven't seen you in a while, you really got a work out in!"

"Yeah, it's pretty much a given with the job." Sweets said, eyes still closed.

"Well, you're doing better than me. I still can't quite seem to get there." Chet said nervously. This time Sweets opened his eyes and turned to look at Chet.

"I thought you got some good help in the infirmary." Sweets said.

"Yeah, I did, doctor got me off the stuff and all but I don't know, I just can't keep up out there and with the food…. It's just much to keep a guy like me going. How do you do it?"

Sweets considered it. "I don't think about it, I just move at a slow and steady pace. The at allowed me to…"

"Body build?" Chet asked with a laugh but he was still admirative of Sweets' current condition.

Sweets felt bad for the guy, he knew it was hard and no two people were the same. He hadn't been physically strong when he came in but he got there. Guys like Dean were already strong coming in but guys like Chet who weren't used to that or knew how to cope were doomed to fail.

"Look Chet, tomorrow when we go out, hang out next to me okay? I'll help you with some breathing exercises and I'll show you how to work at a steady and even pace okay?"

Chet's eyes widened at the idea. "Wow, thanks buddy!"

Chet left and Sweets was glad that he was able to help someone. He went back to resting and dozed off for a moment. Soon he woke up with the sound of the dinner bell. He sat up, a shower would have to wait but he wondered why Dean hadn't woke him up when he got back from his phone call. Sweets figured he would see Dean at dinner.

Sweets sat at the table by himself though he was soon joined by Chet. The grumblings over the goop at dinner was picking up volume but Sweets was still busy looking around for Dean.

"Hey what's up buddy?" Chet asked upon seeing Sweets looking around.

"I was looking for Dean. He left to make a phone call when we got back." Sweets said, eyes still searching, waiting for him to come in at any moment.

"Yeah maybe." Sweets said but he couldn't shake the bad feeling he had.

The bad feeling didn't dissipate that evening or the next morning when they left for work, sans Dean.

* * *

Booth watched as the trucks left the facility carrying loads of men in them in the distance.

"It seems a bit dated." Brenna said at the sight of incarcerated laborers.

"No it's not Bones, it's brilliant. They can pay their debt to society working on the community to which they did wrong. Besides, prisons aren't cheap to run, this way they can run more efficiently."

"I guess." Brennan said as they headed to the office but were met with a guard instead.

"What can I help you folks with?" Lee asked.

"I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth, this is my partner Dr. Temperance Brennan. We'd like to visit with the warden."

"I'm sorry about that sir." Lee said with a smile. "He is currently out of the office."

"When will he be back?" Brennan asked the guard she did not have much admiration for though she didn't know quite why.

"Don't know that sir. Now if you will kindly move your rented vehicle…"

"You did understand when I said Federal Agent didn't I?"

"Yes sir." The guard spit some chew on the ground and Booth couldn't help but think that played into some sort of stereotype. "But he isn't here, and I'm not sure when he will be back."

"Well we would like some information on one of your inmates a …." Brennan began but the guard cut her off.

"I can't help you with any of that information. Now the warden will be back later he is visiting a friend in the hospital, he just woke up from his coma."

"That wouldn't be Will Ryan would it?" Booth asked.

"How did you know?" Lee asked in surprise.

"What hospital?"

* * *

"Hey, hey buddy." Chet asked for a second time trying to get Sweets attention but Sweets seemed to be in a different place at the moment. "Hey buddy, you were going to tell me about breathing and stuff."

Sweets wasn't intentionally ignoring Chet, his mind was far elsewhere. He dug his ditch like a good prisoner but he couldn't help but feel a myriad of emotions begin to fester inside of him. Dean was his friend, he was gone and if he was gone there was only one explanation to where he went and he wasn't so sure it was a 'better place.' He was angry his friend was gone, his one connection to sanity and a sense of happiness in a hell like place. He was angry the warden, those oppressors around him would have killed him. He was angry that without Dean, he himself was due for 'transfer' soon.

* * *

Booth tried to grin kindly as the family gathered around the trooper, glad he was awake. He wasn't truly upset, he knew if it were him or any of his people he would want to be close and not pay all that much attention to some guy wanting to ask questions in the hallway.

Brennan learned from an awkward conversation that the man had woken up the day before and that the warden had been by earlier today but had left. Still Booth wanted to stay and ask some questions.

Finally, a break in the crowd subsided and they pushed their way in to see Ryan.

"Glad to see you are better." Booth said opening with a pleasantry.

"Yeah, thanks, that was a close call I guess." Ryan said.

"I would not guess. I would estimate…" Brennan began but Booth shook his head. He was sure that the man wasn't interested.

"Mr. Ryan I will only take a moment of your time, I wanted to talk to you about your incident."

"Why is the Federal Bureau of Investigation interested in my shooting?" Ryan asked.

"We're looking for another agent. Tell me did you encounter, around the time of your shooting, a Special Agent Lance Sweets? He is a psychologist, profiler, sometimes agent for the bureau."

"The name doesn't sound familiar." The man answered, Booth had been hoping he had some sort of encounter with Sweets to fill in the time gaps.

"You didn't pull him over, tow his car?" Brennan asked.

"No, I just pulled over a car…" Ryan began.

"What kind of car?" Brennan asked quickly to see if it was Sweets' vehicle.

"A 1987 Toyota Tercel."

Brennan and Booth looked at each other, nope, not Sweets car. They were running out of ideas.

"I'd be happy to help you find another law man." Ryan said. "Perhaps if you had a photo of him or something."

Booth took out his phone and quickly located a photo of he and Sweets for a night at the Four Fathers and held it out to Ryan.

"Well, uh, I hate to tell you but that's the guy who shot me."

* * *

At the end of the work day Sweets was feeling like a zombie. He hadn't noticed at first that the day was darker sooner than it usually had been. He soon began to listen to those around them complain about the longer than usual work day. Sweets hadn't noticed, he had become completely self-involved with his thoughts. He wanted nothing to do with the world around him, his grip on reality seemed to loosen as he felt a stronger dulling coming on - Sweets knew it was depression but he didn't care. _What else can I do _he wondered to himself. He had no answers about his situation and though he hadn't known Dean long, he missed him already.

Sweets shut the door to those thoughts, they would get him nowhere though he knew that was exactly where he was heading. He walked past the angry inmates and laid on his bed. He wanted to be far away from them because their angry rantings were getting the attention of the guards, all but one of the guards, Gerald who was busy talking to Chet. Sweets wanted to be far from all of them and headed to the shower. It was as cold of a shower that Sweets had ever had but yet he felt nothing.

* * *

"I don't really understand Booth." Angela said on speaker with Hodgins and Angela. "How could Sweets have shot this Ryan guy?"

"We are not completely clear either Angela." Brennan said into the speaker. "Sweets would only have shot someone out of self defense."

"So this guy came at Sweets?" Cam asked.

"No, the guy had no defensive wounds." Booth said. "The report reads that Ryan pulled a 1987 Toyota Tercel over and as he approached the vehicle, the driver shot the trooper in the head, it was just a miracle that he lived having only grazed his temple. The guy's a bad shot."

"And we know Sweets isn't a bad shot." Cam said. "So what's our options here? Is Sweets dead or hiding out if someone thinks he's shot a trooper like if they are looking for him?"

"Could be." Hodgins said. "It's better than being dead but crap, after all Sweets just went thru on that Cromwell case?"

"No, Sweets would have contacted us for help." Booth said. "I'm starting to think this correctional facility has a lot to do with it."

"Well I didn't find any Lance Sweets being processed in the system for attempted murder." Angela said. "Besides even if they had we would have heard from them, surely they would have contacted the bureau."

Brennan's eyes lit up. "Booth, I think Sweets is there."

"Where?" He asked.

"At that facility." Brennan said. "I think that Kale Mallory is the one who shot Will Ryan. Remember when Angela pulled up the photo of Kale Mallory we noticed a resemblance to Sweets?"

"It wasn't that much of a resemblance, that guy was a freak. Wait, are you saying that he's like a long lost brother to Sweets?"

"No, the facial construction does not suggest a sibling, just similarities." Brennan delineated.

"Like a doppelganger." Hodgins said over the speaker.

"A more evil looking doppelganger." Cam also delineated. "But it could have been enough that they picked him up.

"But Sweets would have told them who he was." Angela said.

"Well for some reason I don't think they do everything by the book here." Booth said.

"I've got a few things here about the case." Angela read from the file. "They picked up the suspect, Kale Mallory, not a lot of details. It reads that the suspect resisted arrest but that he did have the proper identification on him."

"So what the heck happened?" Hodgins asked.

"I'm heading back to the jail to find out more." Booth said.

"Booth do you think that's best?" Cam asked.

"What, if Sweets is stuck in there with, or mistaken to be Kale Mallory then we need to get him out!"

"And I agree but do you think the warden is going to hand him over?" Cam asked. "We need to line up our evidence, find out more on this case and you need to get the direction involved. It's late and I doubt anyone is going to help us now. I'm sure that jail isn't pleasant but it's not like Sweets is in some weird prehistoric jail. We will get this sorted out tomorrow and get Sweets back."

"Okay, I don't like it, but you're right Cam." Booth said it, but he wasn't so sure that he felt it to be true.

* * *

_My first car was a 1987 Toyota Tercel that I bought for $250! And if you are worried about a certain aspect of the story, have faith! ;)  
_


	10. Chapter 10

This chapter is for my sister, who birthday is today. Though she doesn't read fan fiction, she does love Supernatural and is my well, everything.

* * *

The cold hard fact is that we need people to live. As much as people get on our nerves or as much as they bother us, the simple light or dark matter of fact is that we need people to survive – some people more than others. Some people we could certainly do without. Sweets would be fine if the world existed without people like Wallace or any of the guards for that matter. But without the dark it's hard to appreciate the light.

Sweets feelings towards Dean were nothing of the homosexual nature. Fact was that if the other person were a woman, it still wouldn't be romantic. Fact is there are just some people in the world who are your other half, everything to you. You may not live and breathe with or without that person, but they add a color to your world that would be drab and desolate without that person. Sweets didn't have a lot of people that he felt that way about. There weren't a lot of people who didn't immediately find him annoying and push him away, find him too smart, too geeky to make fun of or too young to not smack around. Truth was there weren't a lot of people who immediately took to him and that he had a bond with. Sweets had always accepted that was part of life, not everyone had that person in their life, a life-long friend or a sibling who just made that bad day bearable, that terrible song on the radio better just because you sang along with it together. Sweets wondered if Kale Mallory ever had a friend like that, but he assumed not, for he wouldn't have ended up in this life, like Sweets was now. It confused the thoughts of why bad things happen to good people. _Maybe I'm not really good people._

Together. Yeah Sweets was having a hard time keeping it together but not in a way that anyone would notice. Sweets fell inward on himself, didn't speak to words to anyone and moved about like a zombie that next day. Life in this hell was hard enough, life alone in it was worse. The clock was ticking before his 'transfer' and his options had run low. Sweets figured if Dean were here, well he wouldn't have said much but it would have been enough, enough to keep him going but instead all he saw around him was darkness closing in.

Sweets would have gladly found a way to get himself out of this jam, but his thoughts weren't as fluid as they were a month ago when he first came in. Funny thing about hope is that it generally isn't flushed out in an instant. Humans are funny creatures that latch onto hope with such a strong reverence it takes a lot of chipping away at until they finally let go. Sweets had long since seen the worst of humanity and moved on. First he had lived it, then profiled it, on the last case he was in the same head as it and now he was alone with it, the last shred of hope he held in his hands like a tattered security blanket, the threads of one that was left, the threads quickly disappearing in the wind.

So it was with little surprise that the next day when Sweets got in the truck, his ears deaf to the growing volume of the voices of the other prisoners angry over the even small portions of breakfast on an even hotter day than before. The words faded in and out like a cheap soundtrack on an early talking picture, 'hungry' and 'damn hot' followed by 'worst ever' penetrated his hearing though his quickly blocked out. Silence prevailed like the sound at the bottom of the unmarked grave he had dug into, _home sweet home_. Perhaps though had Sweets not been so lost in thought and so deeply without hope that he may have seen a rental car pull in as they left, a couple get out and head into the office, not stopping when the guards asked them to.

Sweets didn't do much thinking either when they got off the truck and lined up to work. He took his shovel and headed to a spot in line and began to work. The men asked for water some time later but were told they were out. Sweets dug the shovel in the ground, hearing nothing, caring for nothing, working. His highly toned body moved with great fluidity now though his physique would do him little good he feared where he was ultimately going. The voice grew louder as Sweets continued to work.

"Hey stop!" One of the prisoners said, a rise his voice. Sweets continued to shovel the earth, dig deep and find more dirt. _Six feet _Sweets said to himself, _at least it's cool there, and quiet it's so noisy here_.

"Hey someone help!" Another man shouted and Sweets continued to work until a body rushed past him jarring him from his mind's time away, turning to see Chet on the ground. Sweets shovel dropped to the ground and with a clang all the noise he had blocked out came back.

"I said get back!" The guard with the gun said and the on looking prisoners did as they were instructed. Sweets though walked past him and they did little as he approached Chet.

"Help me." Chet wheezed. Sweets lips were unparted but his eyes asked the question and Chet answered. "I couldn't keep up with the longer days, I went back to it."

Sweets nodded and felt the man's quick pulse but as Chet seized up it abruptly stopped. Sweets held Chet's wrist in his hand, motionless. The air was filled with only the rustle of the few trees around, not another sound was made and in that second all was still.

"He's dead?" One of the convicts asked breaking the near silence.

Sweets nodded, he doubted much CPR would help Chet this time, a second overdose had put a great deal of strain on his already fractured body.

"You did this!" The prisoner shouted to the guard. "You've worked us and starved us! It's no wonder it's come to this!"

The other prisoners began to shout, their hands raised in a fisted rage – the anger had so long gone unrequited that it had boiled, fueled by starvation and mistreatment.

It was then a guard, Lee, raised his rifle with a warning to get back but the shouting prisoner stepped forward, only to be intercepted by a bullet. The man fell to the ground, the guard stood shaking slightly at how the moment had transpired. The men looked to their fallen fellow man and suddenly with a rush of rage and math they came to a conclusion, the guards were heavily outnumbered. The guards looked at the prisoners and their math and fired a few shots and soon all was quiet.

Sweets opened his eyes after a moment of hoping the noise would stop. He opened his eyes, Chet's blank stare still looking up at him, he hadn't moved since he stooped next to Chet. Now he stood up and looked around. The trees still provided the only soundtrack, the trees going back to what they did, their light sounds in the tree above. Around Sweets were bodies, three prisoners and three guards, all dead, the rest had fled.

Sweets looked around and did math of his own, he could stay and face the warden or flee with that one shred of hope he held with him still. _All it takes is one foot in front of the other._

* * *

Sorry this is short but it's something. Back to Dean perhaps tomorrow. Perhaps I can wind this whole story up by the 28th. Why? Because that would be one year from when I first published my first, "Mist in the Box."


	11. Chapter 11

11.

**The team continue to investigate how Sweets could have ended up in the prison and figure out a way to exonerate him. Meanwhile Dean is still missing with no knowledge of where he went while the chain gang finds further suppression with the dwindling portions of food &amp; water due to the budget cuts. After Chet suffers another overdose on the line and dies the prisoners revolt, outnumber the guards, a few prisoners are shot but so are the guards. The rest of the prisoners flee.**

* * *

Sweets feet were getting tired but he felt it was the right thing to do, flee. He had tried it their way, telling them who he was but they didn't listen. If he stayed he would have faced in inevitable 'transfer.' He thought of Dean but only for a moment, as the thought became painful he buried it deep and thought more of where he was headed. Somehow Sweets didn't believe that Dean was a murderer and only added to the pain that the good guys in this scenario finished last.

Sweets stomach had gone past growling and now simply wasn't speaking to him. He had no source of food on these desolated side roads and though he had shed his prison shirt with a tee under it he still felt like a sore thumb sticking out, sure to be seen and sent back. Getting sent back to the jail meant only one thing, imminent death, so he trudged on. _Maybe I can get out of this, call Booth, hide for now. _He was tired but he saw a slight hope in that idea despite the humidity that was wrapping itself around him like a heavy body wrapped around him, slowing him down. The rolling clouds and sounds of thunder didn't help build his positive attitude any.

* * *

"You expect me to believe the warden is out _again_?" Booth asked ready to call in the big guns to back him up, he had had enough, the Department of Justice should be involved at this point.

"Yes, we have a bit of a situation." The guard answered and this time Brennan denoted that he wasn't so much cocky as he was genuinely concerned about something.

"Situation?" Booth asked picking up on the same vibe but the guard was hesitant to speak more. "You can tell me now or I can get the Department of Justice here. I do have them on speed dial."

The guard cleared his throat but kept his voice low. "The prisoners shot the guards, escaped."

Booth couldn't keep his eyes from widening in surprise as his mind flooded with questions on how many wrong things took place to allow that to happen.

"If you stay here I'll check with the warden, see if he needs your help." The guard seemed to think help might be necessary so Booth &amp; Brennan waited.

"Booth undoubtedly some of the prisoners were shot as well, what is Sweets…"

"I know Bones, one thing at a time."

"I may be going on one of your hunches but I'd suggest with the way the warden works he will not want our help on this."

"I agree." Booth said taking out his phone while they waited to be sure. "I doubt he's going to tell us where it was or who was shot either." Booth waited for someone to pick up. "Hodgins yeah, you said yesterday that someone else was looking into the situation here at the prison, yeah, see who it is, yeah I'll wait."

The guard returned informing them he had misspoke, nothing had occurred and they needed to go on their own way. Booth was tired of working with the prison and while Brennan tried to find out where the shooting took place from the guard who was now tight lipped, apparently after a thorough lip thrashing from Wallace, he said nothing.

"Come on Bones." Booth said still on hold. "We're not getting anywhere here. We need to find Sweets if he's one of the escaped prisoners before they do."

"And how are we going to do that?" Brennan asked as Hodgins came back on the line.

"Okay took some digging." Hodgins reported but I found out who was on the case, he is U.S. Marshall Dean Wesson."

"How can I get a hold of him?" Booth asked taking out a piece of paper.

"Well he was recently admitted to the hospital, not far from where you are, Saint Mary's General Hospital." Hodgins reported.

"Come on Bones, let's go."

* * *

Thirty minutes later Booth was assuring the doctor he was indeed a Federal Agent and finally granted the direction of US Marshall Dean Wesson's hospital room. They figured they were in the right direction when a deep voice assured the nurse he was fine and that he just wanted to leave, and vehemently assured them he had somewhere to go.

"Dean Wesson?" Booth asked from the doorway.

The man in the hospital gown on the bed with a slew of cuts on his face by his forehead and lip suggested he was on the wrong end of a flight. He looked pale and overall battered for whatever his effort was.

"Who's asking?" The man asked grumpily as the nurse fled the room.

"Special Agent Seeley Booth and my partner Temperance Brennan." Booth said introducing her themselves quickly. "This is a long shot but we're hoping you can help us find a friend of ours."

"I don't know Special Agent." Dean answered as he painfully adjusted his position in bed. "See I've been undercover in a prison for the last few weeks so I doubt I met too many of your friends, unless you have piss poor choices of friends."

"That I don't." Booth said thinking fondly of Sweets. "I think he may have been there by mistake."

Dean stopped examining his IV for a moment and looked up at Booth. "Kale Mallory." He answered and followed with a question he knew the answer to. "But that's not his name is it?"

"No, it's Dr. Lance Sweets." Brennan answered.

"Yeah he's at the jail." Dean said. "And if they let me out of here I can get back there and arrest those sons of bitches. My boss is working on the paper work but it's taking freaking forever."

Booth quickly liked Dean, he reminded him of himself - not the kind of guy who wanted to sit around, wherever he was. However he realized one thing, Dean didn't know about the prison break.

"Well we have a problem, he's not at the prison." Booth said earning an unsettled and surprised look from Dean. "Something happened, guards were shot, prisoners were shot and most of them fled."

"And Mallory, I mean, uh, Lance?" Dean asked now sitting straight up with concern.

"We don't know." Brennan said. "We need some help figuring out what happened, the warden will not help."

Dean nodded. "Yeah that's because that guy is an asshat. Grade A asshat." Dean pulled back the sheets.

"Whoa, where are you going?" Booth said seeing the man obviously wasn't up to par.

"Look it's a long story, your friend, well, he's a good guy, I didn't want to leave him behind - trust me. I hadn't planned on things turning out like they did." Dean said. "I'm fine anyway, I'm just waiting on paper work."

Booth wasn't sure but he knew the kind of resolve that Dean had, he had it too and he could use the help finding Sweets.

"Look I'm going to look for him." Dean said. "You can come if you want." And with that Dean removed his own IV and headed for the door.

"Let's follow him then." Booth said surprised there was another person as stubborn as he was.

* * *

After the first doctor tried to stop Dean on his way out the rest ignored any attempt too. It was fine because by the time he got to the exit his own boss was coming in.

"There you are, hell son, you look like hell." His boss said ever so tactfully though Dean gave him a look. "What I got here as soon as I could."

"Wait, when were you admitted?" Brennan asked Dean.

"This morning." Dean answered still a little fuzzy. "I think."

"So you weren't part of what went down but where were you?" Booth asked.

"Good question." Dean said rubbing his head.

"Look, I'm not approving of you leaving but I'm not going to stop you." His boss told him. "You're as stubborn as anyone I've met. But you can't walk around in that so here's a change of clothes. Who are these people?"

Booth &amp; Brennan introduced themselves while Dean slipped on the pants under the hospital gown. They were in a hallway but he didn't care, all he knew was he needed to go. Brennan couldn't help but admire Dean's finely chiseled chest before he covered it with a tee and US Marshals jacket.

"I'm assistant director Ben Singer. Dean and I have been working this case for months now. We decided to put Dean on the inside to figure out what was going on. What's the bureau's interest here?" Singer asked.

"The guy I told you about, Mallory." Dean answered for them.

"Right, the guy who was helping out and you didn't think was a criminal." Singer answered.

"How did you know?" Booth asked Singer.

"Unlike your friend I didn't lose my phone privileges." Dean said with a smirk but it faded. "Your friend has some thick skin."

"What do you mean?" Brennan asked ready to explain to him that skin thickness varied very little in scientific terms.

"I mean he can take a lot of beatings." Dean said not mincing words. "And that's why I'd like to find him." He slipped on his shoes and was now ready to go despite looking half dead on his feet he had a determination that was highly admirable.

"Okay, but first what the hell happened to you, you said you were on the inside, how did you get here?" Booth asked Dean.

Dean wanted to go but he understood they wanted to know what was going on, see if they could trust him, he got it. "Right yeah so I go to make my weekly call. It's a long story but Mallory, er Sweets and I suspected something was up. He had known for longer but he didn't know if he could trust me. So we worked on some other issues at the jail, drug deals going on, things like that. Well, we find out that people are getting transferred which meant them getting killed and buried. Well, the warden's interest in Sweets got sped up when he figured out Sweets might be onto him. So he decided to 'transfer' him and as far as anyone knew that meant you were getting sent to the big house, except no one seemed to make it there. Well my boss here wanted me out so we could bust the place so they put me on a transfer but to another facility - not the big house. Things were looking grim for Sweets so I went to make the call to get me out now and thus get him out. Well that night, I was surprised that before I could get back to the hall I was routed to the warden's office."

"Why is that?" Booth asked.

"Singer called in for immediate transfer and the warden did so. I didn't get time to talk to Sweets before I left but I had planned to come back the next day and bust the place wide open so I didn't think much about it. Expect that instead after we're driving along in a van we stop and I realize we are in the middle of nowhere. See the night or so before Sweets and I went looking for info and I went into the warden's office. Well apparently he figured out I was there, called his buddies who made a pit stop, I wasn't destined to make my destination. Doors open, they pull me out in handcuffs and I can't defend myself."

"They beat you while you were cuffed?" Brennan asked shocked.

"And left him for dead on the side of the road in a ditch for a couple of days." Singer added. "Tough son of a bitch that he is, he didn't die." There was obvious admiration for the kid in Singer's voice, Booth knew how he felt, he had like that about Sweets too.

"So they brought you here this morning." Brennan said surprised he was moving as well as he was.

"I'll heal but right now we've got some place else to be." Dean pointed out.

"You're going to need this." Singer said handing Dean his badge and gun.

"Oh baby I missed you." Dean said looking at his gun.

"You need a moment alone?" Singer asked and Dean gave him a roll of the eyes.

"Let's go. I think we should start with where we would usually work." Dean said getting into Singer's SUV while Booth &amp; Brennan followed in their rented car.

* * *

It took some time but they arrived at the second option for a work site that Dean suggested. It was getting darker with impending rain. They got out of the car upon seeing red smears on the road.

"This should be roped off as a crime scene!" Brennan said getting out of the car very angry.

"That's not how the warden works." Dean said looking around. "Dammit, I should have got here sooner."

"So wait, you're sure that Sweets would have run?" Booth asked Dean and it felt strange to ask someone else what one of _his _people would have done. Booth knew though Dean had a clearer idea of Sweets state of mine recently. The reflection however left him with a feeling of guilt.

"Yeah I'm sure he did." Dean said looking around and finding a couple of shell casings in the grass. "Something must have happened that everyone freaked out."

"Any ideas?" Signer asked.

Dean nodded."Couple of days before I was gone the grumblings were getting louder. The food and water got more scarce - which under this heat make people who are already hot under the collar a little more hot under the collar."

"Why was there a food shortage?" Brennan asked.

"No idea, something to do with the budget. I suspect the warden was scraping some money off the top." Dean said.

"So the heat and the hunger could have caused them to snap." Singer guessed.

"I always wondered how long it would take a group of criminals to realize there were three dozen of them and two guards with guns. I guess the math got done today."

"Well they cleaned up fast." Booth said looking at the crime scene, wondering if Sweets was one of the dead or one of the escaped.

"Your friend is a fighter." Dean said to Booth &amp; Brennan. "I didn't know him for a long time but I knew him well. He faced some serious shit but he kept on going, if he's alive, and I hope he is, he's out there."

They nodded at his words.

Dean looked around thinking of where Sweets might be headed. "We just need to find him before the warden does. For some reason, that prick really has it out for him."


	12. Chapter 12

12.

**Booth &amp; Brennan come upon Dean who turns out to be an undercover US Marshall. He was almost beaten to death when Wallace figured out he might be onto him. With his boss, the quartet try and find Sweets before the Warden does, who has it out for Sweets.**

Sweets was tired, near starved and now questioning his own health. For so long he had concentrated on everything else - namely staying alive and getting out that the string of beatings (strangely enough) went to the back of his mind. Now having little else to think of each was coming back to him with each long and painful step forward.

He knew he needed food, water and rest but the fields that surrounded him on foot were hardly abundant in any of those options. After what was hours but felt like days he saw a small town ahead which appeared to be mostly abandoned, a roadside town long since bypassed by a highway. He approached slowly figuring his overall appearance and attire might give off the wrong impression. It was evening hours he guessed, the skies darkening with a storm coming in.

By now his mind had the same atmosphere- cloudy and muddled. His thoughts before the escape, his muddled thoughts of Dean's likely demise, his bleak future hadn't changed much. At first the adrenaline fueled his escape but the likelihood of being found seemed highly possible, and being found meant a far less pleasant death - the warden would be sure of that. Much more than the basics Sweets could not comprehend, his mind had simply run its course - exhaustion, depression, then expiration - or so it felt. He could only take so much, the Cromwell case was overload, false imprisonment was catastrophic, pending death and torture was more than the human mind could seemingly take and yet here he was, still here. Many could argue that what was in his mind was scant thoughts floating by like threads in the wind and he didn't even try grasping at them. Right now he was primal - water, rest, food was a hope he dared not grasp for.

He looked around the corner of a building down the town "Main" street which consisted of half a dozen 'buildings'. Building was a kind word for the worn down shacks. Sweets caught a glimpse of himself in the glass and stepped away until he realized it was his reflection. While the hard labor had chiseled his cheeks and physique, the mental toll left a strain on his face, he looked old like a weathered leather jacket.

He sighed and looked around once more, felt a cold rain drop on his shoulder followed by a few more. He picked up a discarded weighty piece of junk and tossed it thru the glass by the door. He reached in an unlocked the door of the small corner drug store. After shuffling inside he looked around at the available merchandise, all dated so he assumed to location had been abandoned some years ago. Sweets checked the phone only to find that it was dead which was no surprise to him. He reached out and grabbed a package of crackers that was on a shelf. His hand backed out as a three spiders vacated the open package. Sweets threw the box on the dirty counter hoping the rest of the spiders would vacate and then ate around them, starvation was more prevalent than a sense of gourmet cooking.

Unfortunately for Sweets he couldn't see the person across the street was still living in town and the old nut off his rocker called the nearest, local police agency.

* * *

"Well what do we do now?" Singer asked standing up from viewing the crime scene on the side of the road.

"You hear that?" Dean asked.

"Police radio." Singer answered.

"…units are being dispatched." The operator announced.

Another, familiar voice came on the radio. "No need to dispatch additional units, we will take care of this."

"Thank you Warden Wallace." The operator answered.

Dean rushed to pick up the radio but Singer grabbed it from him. "Warden thinks you are dead kid, let's not tip him off." Dead nodded. "This is US Marshall Ben Singer can you repeat the details on this call?"

"Yes, we have another report on the escaped convicts." The operator reported.

"Another?" Singer asked.

"Yes we received another notice an hour ago."

"US Marshall, this is Warden Clayton Wallace, we have this situation under control, no need for you to get involved."

"Warden I'm going to ask you to step down on this, the US Marshalls office will be taking over." Singer announced. "Wallace?" Singer asked again but the line was dead.

"That can't be good." Dean said while the radio was off in his hand.

"Operator can you give me the locations you gave Wallace?" Singer asked and the operator obliged. They looked at the map, two different directions. "Did they provide descriptions of the men they saw?"

"They were mostly identified from their uniforms." The operator answered and Singer tossed the radio.

"What now?" He asked.

"We split up." Dean said. "Either us two or one of me or him with one of you."

"I'll stick with my partner." Booth said defiantly.

"Fine." Dean said. "You take one of the locations and we'll take the other Just be sure and get there before Wallace and watch out - he's a mean son of a bitch."

* * *

Sweets was done with the box of crackers though it wasn't clear if it had done him some good or more harm. Sweets mind was still fuzzy as to what course of action to take next, no string of thoughts seemingly came together. He felt like he should call someone for help, but how to get to a phone? Sweets knew there was no phone here, so he would have to go find another phone, he would figure out who to call once he got there, he hoped his mind might be working by then.

Sweets reached for the door but it opened first. Sweets looked up quickly and saw the person he least wanted to see.

"Warden." Sweets said, his voice deep and dry. He looked outside to see Lee sitting in the patrol car looking, standing guard. Sweets had a feeling this wasn't a routine arrest to take him back to jail. He felt the fight or flight basic instinct begin to kick in despite the gun that Wallace had pointed at Sweets.

"Pretty surprised you made it so far." The Warden said, so calm and cool that it made Sweets nervous. "But then again you've been far scrappier then I had ever imagined, Dr. Sweets."

Sweets backed up and paused, his eyes narrowed.

"Yes Dr. Sweets, I know who you are, always have really." Wallace said smiling. "You see the resemblance was too much to pass up."

"Kale Mallory." Sweets said connecting the thoughts though they acted like elusive clouds, thoughts he was grasping at.

"His mother's maiden name, I had it changed from mine, kid is always screwing up." Wallace said shaking his head. "Always getting himself in trouble. He called me, from the same gas station you were at, told me had shot Ryan, said he was looking at some guy and it was like a mirror. I told him to lift your wallet, give him yours, picked you up a bit later and got you sent to my prison."

"I thought Ryan was a friend of yours." Sweets said.

"Friends are nothing like family." Wallace said. "I can tell you that because I know you don't have any - family that is."

"Don't be so sure of that." Dean said from behind Wallace. Wallace turned around to face him and raised his gun in the air in surrender. "Oh yeah and by the way, not dead now put the gun down on the counter."

Dean kept his eyes on Wallace and glanced over at Sweets who seemed to barely register that Dean was there. Wallace looked past Dean to see another man, Singer, arresting Lee. Wallace set the gun on the counter near Sweets.

"Yes, I thought my men did a number on you, looks like they have failed me yet again." Wallace said, his hands still raised.

"Oh they did a number, but like others in your charge, when you don't want to die you don't." Dean answered.

Wallace nodded and as he did so a red light shone thru the window, a laser light, it centered dead in the middle of Sweets chest.

"You see though, I've got a little more brains than you do." Wallace said. "Now lower your gun or say goodbye to your friend. I must admit first that I was surprised that you were in the Marshall service, that was a surprise. Oh and do have your other friend release Lee please."

Wallace's cool tone pissed Dean off. He wanted nothing more than to take him out. Dean left his gun on Wallace while he moved so his back was no longer on the door.

"I'm not doing it." Dean said. "You'll only kill all of us. And you know you're not getting anywhere Wallace, you can't kill a Federal Agent and two US Marshalls."

"It's going to take some doing, but yes I can." Wallace argued.

"You're suffering from severe delusional tendencies." Sweets said out of the blue. "Hm, where did that come from?"

"Sweets are you still with me here?" Dean asked.

"Dean, you're dead. Am I dead?" Sweets asked his head beginning to pound as he pecked at the red dot on his shirt. "There's something on me."

"Yes, and the warden is going to have him back off." Dean said locking eyes with the warden.

"I don't think so." Wallace said as the men stared at each other in a dead locked glance.

"Whew, it's gone." Sweets said and both men looked to see that the red dot on Sweets chest was gone. Wallace looked confused as he looked out the window to see where the guard had gone with the rifle and laser shot. Dean kept his glance on Wallace who now smiled.

"I guess it isn't your day." Wallace said smiling at Sweets. Dean turned to see that Sweets had Wallace's gun drawn on Dean.

"Sweets, what are you doing?" Dean asked, antsy at the moment.

"You're not Dean." Sweets said. "Dean's dead."

"Oh trust me Sweets…"

"Stop that!" Sweets shouted. "Dean doesn't know that my name is Sweets so you're obviously a…delusion? A guard…" Sweets aim wavered as headache grew, he was confused and trying to find logic.

"I know all about you Dr. Lance Sweets." Dean said, his aim still focused on Wallace, he felt sure Sweets wouldn't shoot him but Dean wasn't so sure now that he was in his own mind.

"Booth, I met Booth and Dr. Brennan." Dean said. "That's how I know who you are." Deans aid.

Sweets head moved to one side, "Booth…Dr. Brennan…" His tone was that of someone recalling a distant memory. "But you killed your wife…you're a killer…"

Dean kept his gun on Wallace but turned to look at Sweets as their eyes met. "Do you really believe that?"

Sweets eyes blinked, "no, no I never did."

Wallace heaved a sigh and quickly reached in his pocket. "Enough of this!" Wallace said aiming his gun at Dean but Sweets fired first, followed by two shots from Dean.

The smell of iron pierced the air when Booth ran in the door followed by Brennan. They heard the shots and saw no one at first but heard a noise.

"Hey, hey are you still with me?" Dean's voice said from behind the counter.

"Dean?" Sweets said from the ground, Dean was crouched over him.

"Yeah, I'm still here. Hey thanks for shooting him instead of me." Dean said.

"What happened?!" Brennan asked looking over them.

"Wallace had a second gun, he was about to shoot me when Sweets shot him first, I added a couple for good measure." Dean said checking Sweets' heart rate on his neck.

"I'd say you got him." Booth said looking at the bloody Wallace, dead on the floor.

Dean pulled Sweets up off the floor, Booth &amp; Brennan's eyes widened at the first full sight of him.

"I'm guessing by those looks he doesn't always look like this." Dean said putting one of Sweets' arms around his own shoulder. "Let get him some medical attention shall we?"

The pair watched for a second as Dean painfully helped Sweets to the door, suddenly reminded that he himself had recently been severely beaten Booth went to help Sweets while Brennan stopped Dean.

"Let Booth help." She said to Dean who seemed short of breath. "I think you should go back to the hospital as well."

Singer came up, concerned as well. "You're looking a little pale kid."

"No, I'm fine." Dean said and promptly passed out.

* * *

"You going to eat all of your Jello?" Dean asked.

"No, what about that fruit cocktail?" Sweets asked.

"All yours my friend." Dean said making the swap.

The pair went back to watching TV.

"Come on, like a knife like that would make it thru security." Dean said yelling at the screen from his side of the hospital room.

"Well the guy clearly has father issues." Sweets pointed out. "I think he should spend a little more time dealing with that than worrying about his brother's should."

"Yeah whatever." Dean said and changed conversation. "Hey what happened to Chet?"

Sweets lost interest in his fruit cocktail. "He didn't make it."

"Oh, sorry, didn't mean to kill your appetite." Dean genuinely felt bad about that too, they had been there a couple of days and Sweets was finally well enough to even eat on his own, Dean back from surgery after some bleeding had reintroduced itself after the show down, making him pass out.

"Look, nothing that happened in there was your fault." Dean said. "Can't save everyone you know."

"Right." Sweets said. "Thanks for saving me though."

"Hey, that's what partners are for right?" Dean said with a million megawatt smile. "You know, in the very heterosexual way."

Sweets smiled and Dean felt relaxed again, that dark and moody version of Sweets he saw that night was one he didn't want to see again.

"I agree." Sweets said. "I've never really had a partner in my work. I mean I've worked with Booth, but he and Dr. Brennan have always…"

"Well we made a good team." Dean said. "And that's saying a lot based on that hell we were in."

"Hey Dean, when you said you had killed your wife…" Sweets stopped talking when he saw Dean lose interest in his Jello. And based on how much of Sweets Jello Dean had eaten, he knew he had said the wrong thing. "Oh never mind. I mean, I know you didn't…"

"No, I didn't." Dean said nodding in a way that told Sweets he didn't mind that he had asked. "High school sweethearts." Sweets was still curious since Dean didn't wear a ring. "Someone killed her though. I was working late and I came home, her mom had been visiting…they were both…."

"I'm sorry." Sweets said.

"It was uh, not something that was easy to see."

"And they never caught the killer?"

"I was working construction at the time." Dean said. "I was very interested in law enforcement after that. Went to school, so on."

"You know I have a lot of time off, even more right now." Sweets said. "Maybe we could look into the case."

Dean looked over at Sweets.

"But you've got your family thing going on with what's her name? Bones? That's weird by the way."

"Yeah, well, sometimes I feel like that show could go on without me." Sweets said poking at the lone cherry that always seemed to exist in the fruit cocktail. "Maybe I need a little time away. Besides, I know what it's like to feel like you're always working alone."

"That I have been." Dean said taking the last bite of Jello. "Alright, let's do it."

Both men looked to the hall and called out simultaneously, "Nurse!"

* * *

The End.

But maybe a murder case may still be out there for Sweets &amp; Dean to solve!


End file.
